


message received

by dell_x



Category: EXO (Band), K-pop, SHINee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Lawyers, Angst, Character Death, Implied JongKey, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Mentions of Cancer, Slow Burn, Smoking, Unrequited Love, don't really know much about lawyers, dysfunctional as fuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-01
Updated: 2016-01-01
Packaged: 2018-05-06 01:48:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 29,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5398250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dell_x/pseuds/dell_x
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>it's been two years since taemin last saw jongin. two years of divorce cases, rain, empty coffee cups, and voice mails. so when taemin has to work with jongin on a divorce made miles more complicated than it should be, it all goes a bit downhill doesn't it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	message received

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first k-pop fic so i'm sorry if it's bad, and shinee aren't really in it cause i felt i wouldn't know their characters enough. i also only know the name of one of jongin's sisters so sorry about that. and the climate's all messed up but i exercised my creative freedom for that, and there's loads of symbolism if you look for it.
> 
>  
> 
> enjoy!!
> 
> edit//um this was literally published a year ago but i'm indecisive so i've changed a pairing in this to another pairing purely because it was annoying me, so if you're rereading, sorry about that. doesn't affect the storyline in any way really, but just a heads up. soz.

It was raining. The water was pouring against the window like clear paint, the sky was the colour of a bullet, and cars outside screeched as they avoided pedestrians. Inside, the smell of coffee hung in the air, and the only sound in Taemin’s office was the hum of fluorescent lights and someone crying down the hall. A tall man sat on the other side of the polished wooden desk. He had a long nose and a jawline which made Taemin briefly understand the need for museums. His eyes were sad but he smiled as he flicked through the paperwork in front of him. He looked older than when Taemin saw him just a few years ago, smiling as he danced with his new husband, Taemin’s uncle's cousin or something. Someone too distant for Taemin to remember anyhow. He passed it back to Taemin with a sigh.

“Is that all the signatures you need Mr Lee?”

“For now,” Taemin replied. “come back tomorrow, I’ll call Mr Kim to see how your forms match up with his client's. And just Taemin is fine. We’ll be seeing a lot more of each other, should SM drag this out in their usual manner.”

The man sighed again as he stood up. The building shook as a subway car passed underneath.

“Thank you again for doing this on such short notice. Taemin.”

“Of course Mr Wu.”

“Kris,” the man corrected with a smile. “I mean it. It’s all come on so suddenly, I wouldn't know where to start if you weren't here to help me out.”

“Divorces are tricky things Kris, particularly in a situation like this. I’ll call you tomorrow after I’ve spoken to Mr Kim’s office.”

Kris nodded as he headed towards the door.

“And Kris,” Taemin added. “Take care of yourself.”

The man only smiled as he made his way down the hall towards the elevators. Taemin sat and watched from his window as Kris walked out into the street, stopping to light a cigarette under a streetlamp. He stood staring at the ground before crushing the end under his foot and hailing a cab. Taemin frowned as he made his way towards the coffee machine in the break room. He’d need at least three more cups before he felt ready to call SM. But no amount of caffeine could've made Taemin feel ready to call Jongin.

 

It was still raining. Taemin had been staring at the phone for five minutes. He knew the number but he wasn't sure if he knew who would pick up.

He took a scalding mouthful of his drink, dialled the number, and waited.

“Hello, you’ve reached SM lawyers, how may I help you?”

Taemin swallowed.

“Is it possible to speak to Mr Kim?”

“I’m afraid you’ll have to be more specific sir, we are a particularly large firm, we have a Kim Jongdae, Kim Heechul, Kim Yerim, Kim Seokjin, Kim Taehyung, Kim Hyoyeon, Kim Wonsik, Kim Ryeowook, Kim Yugyeom, Kim Dongwan, Kim Taeyeon, Kim Jiwon, Kim -”

Taemin closed his eyes and breathed in.

“Jongin. Kim Jongin.”

“Ah, one moment sir,” the voice answered. “may I ask who’s calling?”

“Lee Taemin, I work for JYP? I’m representing a client involved in a divorce, I believe Mr Kim is representing his husband.”

“Ah, Jongin said you’d be calling. Just a minute sir, I’ll connect you through now.” The voice sounded amused, which only fuelled Taemin’s anxiety.

"Thank you” he replied, hoping his voice didn't sound as terrified as he felt.

There was a shuffling of papers, and another dial tone, before connecting through.

“Taemin-ah! I was wondering when you’d call. You're representing Kris hyung right? I gotta say, we’re gonna be in this one for the long haul. This is something messy, poor Joon’s really messed up about this. How’s Kris doing, is he holding up?”

Taemin swallowed.

“I guess,” Taemin mumbled, suddenly very interested in his shirt sleeve “I just wanted to check you’d gotten your basic paperwork done so you could send it over.”

“Ah no problem. Tell you what, come meet me for a coffee and we’ll go over it together, how’s that sound?”

“Um, well, you see-“

“Great!” Jongin interrupted. "You know that little Italian cafe we used to go to, it’s near your office, right? Meet me there in an hour would you? great, I’ll see you then. Take care Taemin!”

Before Taemin could say a word, Jongin had hung up. Taemin threw his head back and occupied himself with staring at the light bulbs and not thinking about how Jongin’s voice sounded the same when he said his name.

 

 

An hour later Taemin found himself walking towards a small cafe crushed between a karaoke bar and a chemist. The seats outside had been stacked up, and standing under the bright red awning, sheltered from the rain, was Jongin.

He looked too similar to when Taemin had last seen him to prevent the twist of a knife in Taemin’s chest. He was wrapped in that thick coat his sister had bought him in their third year of university and he was staring up at the sky. A cigarette hung from his mouth. His hair was still light brown, and he seemed thinner, more tired than Taemin remembered. But maybe Taemin had only ever seen Jongin as full of life, the energy to Taemin’s lethargy.

Jongin didn't see him approaching, and jumped when Taemin stepped in front of him.

“I thought you said you would quit,” Taemin said, nodding to the cigarette Jongin was stubbing out.

“I thought you said you’d keep your hair short,” Jongin replied, “although this is miles better than what it used to be Taemin-ah.”

Taemin smiled and wondered whether or not he should shake Jongin’s hand but Jongin decided for him, flinging his arms around Taemin and burying his head in his neck. Taemin froze for a second, but allowed himself to relax, his arms around Jongin’s back and breathing in the scent of his hair. He still used the same shampoo.

When Jongin released him, Taemin thought his cheeks looked flushed, but maybe it was the cold. Jongin turned and entered the cafe. “C’mon hyung, it’s freezing out here.”

 

\- - - - - - - - - - - -

_5 years, 9 months ago_

 

It was three in the morning and it was raining. The roads were still crushed full with traffic and people milling about the streets. Jongin and Taemin were in a harshly lit diner, with shining black and white tiles, tucked into a red leather booth at the back, steaming cups of black coffee sat in front of them. They’d come from a late night showing of a horror movie, stumbling out drunk on adrenaline, laughing their way down the street like the city was empty. There were a couple other people in the diner, enough that no one would notice they were leaning into each other across the table, and no one to notice Jongin playing with Taemin’s hands as they sat.

 

“Tae?”

 

“Yeah Nin?”

 

“Tonights not gonna end right? I mean it will end, but we’ll stay together right? And have more nights like this. So it won’t end. Right Tae?”

 

“Not if you don’t want it to.”

 

“Why would I ever want this to end? We’re partners in crime, partners stay together. Right Tae?”

 

“Right Jongin.”

 

They drank their coffee and laughed more, before staggering out into the rain, and to Taemin’s new apartment. His dad had bought it on the condition Taemin did well at uni. It was in a nice area, just on the other side of the river. It was reasonably sized, two bedrooms, one of which Taemin used as a study, and the old woman across the hall was kind. They’d started university a couple months ago, and Jongin was living on campus. But he wasn’t really. He had a toothbrush at Taemin’s, and mugs he used. The handwriting on the grocery list was as much Jongin’s as Taemin’s, and his weird foreign shampoo bottles lay in the shower. The only thing missing was his own room, but that didn't matter cause Jongin just crashed on the couch. Except more often than not Jongin ended up in Taemin’s bed because “heating is expensive, and there’s too many bills to pay already, it makes more sense to just share, conserve energy and stuff.”

 

They lay on the couch and blew smoke into the ceiling fan, hypnotising themselves with it’s lazy turns, watching the tv with no sound. And if taemin woke up at three  A.M with jongin wrapped in his arms and made sure not to move so they could stay like this, and dealt with a dead arm and crushed toes, Jongin never needed to know.

 

And if Jongin knew fine well that Taemin was awake but felt safe for once so went back to sleep, worry free in the way Jongin only ever was with him, Taemin never needed to know.

\-- - - - - - - - - - - -

 

Jongin insisted on ordering for both of them, pushing Taemin to go find a seat in the crowded cafe. He found a small table in the corner and examined his nails until Jongin squeezed himself into his seat clutching two mugs. Taemin accepted his and began to drink. A large flat white with double espresso, half-milk, no foam, and three brown sugars. Even after two years, Jongin still remembered his order. The coffee burned on the way down his throat and left a bittersweet taste in his mouth. Jongin smiled at him over his drink, a mountain of whipped cream tickling his face. A small circle of foam remained on his nose.

“You’ve got a little…” Taemin mumbled, pointing at his own nose.

Jongin frowned and attempted to reach it with his tongue.

Taemin rolled his eyes and leant forward, brushing it off with thumb before realising what he was doing. He could feel his ears turning red as Jongin laughed.

“Let’s just get to the point hyung. Between you and me Tae, we should've seen this coming. He married Joonmyun when we were in high school didn't he, they were still in college right? And Joon’s always wanted kids. I’m surprised it didn't happen sooner.”

Taemin grimaced and shrugged.

“You never know whats going on between two people when no one else is there.”

Jongin’s face was unreadable as he reached into his bag to get out the paperwork.

“We both know that Taemin-ah.”

 

By the time they’d finished going over the paperwork, it was dark outside. The cafe remained open and crowded. The elderly couple sat next to Taemin was replaced with giggling schoolgirls, who seemed to be sneaking photos of the two of them and blushed whenever he looked up. Jongin’d gone through half a pack of cigarettes, and Taemin’s blood was now definitely half coffee at this point. Jongin’s sleeves were rolled up and his tie loosened. He was twirling his pen, a habit he’d passed on to Taemin. He didn't like to do it so much lately. He could never get it right now.

“Trust Kris to make this complicated. Look hyung, they’d even started a college savings account. Shit, I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.”

“Seriously?” Taemin gaped, reaching for the papers, ignoring how his hand brushed Jongin’s.

His eyes poured over the sheets. It was all there. A college savings account, various other accounts, stocks, investments. They’d really planned it all out. Or rather, Joonmyun had.

“So Joon wants to split it all 50/50 right? Why isn't Kris accepting it?” Jongin asked.

“He wants to leave it to Joonmyun he said. Says Joon should save it for the future. I shouldn't be getting invested in this. I knew I would, I mean I… we went to their wedding, Joon’s a distant relation, of course I’d get overly involved in the divorce.”

“I still don’t think it’s fair for this to even happen.” Jongin replied. “even if they can’t adopt, they could figure something out. I know it’s not that simple, but if Kris just applies for citizenship…”

“He can’t,” Taemin answered. “something about his brother being in prison back in China so he can't renounce his citizenship, and you know that they don't allow dual in China, we had to tell Zitao that every other day.”

“Well they don’t need kids that bad don’t they? Isn't that a bit harsh, divorcing your husband because you can’t have children with them?”

“It’s not Joonmyun that wants the divorce Jongin. He woke up one morning, with Kris’s stuff gone, and a note. He’s not seen him since, why do you think they got two lawyers, let alone from different firms? He can’t stand seeing him. ”

“But it’s so sad hyung,” Jongin whined, “it’s like something you’d see in a drama, the husband thinking the other will be happier without them, but it turns out all they needed was each other. And they’ll reunite in front of the courthouse in the rain, and ride off into the sunset, so long as it doesn't turn out they were brothers all along…”

Jongin was staring contemplatively into the distance. Taemin snapped his fingers in front of Jongin’s eyes, sighing as Jongin looked back at him.

“Than’s all very nice Jonginnie but real life isn't a drama. C’mon, just a couple more pages and we can go.”

“Can’t we just go now hyung?" Jongin said, sighing as he buried his nose in the papers. “Can’t we just go now hyung? We can do this later, I’m tired, and I’m seeing black spots in front of my eyes. Let’s go yeah?”

Taemin sighed before nodding and gathering up his papers and stuffing them into his bag. He shrugged his coat on as he stood, hitting the schoolgirls in the face with his sleeve. The two weaved their way out of the cafe, and Taemin narrowly avoided grinding on a businessman. They paused outside of the cafe to smoke. It was still raining, but the neon lights of the street bounced off the water slicked streets and cast shadows onto Jongin’s face. He stared at the passing cars as he blew smoke into his fringe.

“If we’re gonna be seeing each other more often,” Jongin said, not looking at Taemin “we’re going to have to talk about it.”

Taemin hummed in agreement but made no move to continue the conversation. He dropped his cigarette to the ground and crushed it under his heel.

“C’mon, I’ll walk you to the subway.”

 

\-- - - - - - - - - - - -

_9 years, 3 months ago_

 

“Tumbled short of his dreams– not through her own fault, but because of the colossal vitality of his illusion - ”

 

Jongin had read that line about six times in the past five minutes. He was distracted. He was sitting in the library during his study period, the rain was crashing against the windows, and there was the quiet hum of dozens of voices whispering throughout the room. He was supposed to be reading The Great Gatsby, he had a paper due next week. But he was distracted, as all sixteen year olds are when faced with long periods of concentration.

 

Kim Jongin was in class 2B. Lee Taemin was in 2A. His classroom was across the hall from jongin’s, and if Jongin went to go “sharpen his pencil” and leant right back, he could see in. Taemin sat four rows from the back, two from the window. He almost always was looking out of it, Jongin had never seen him fully paying attention, but he was one of the schools top students. Which made sense, as taemin was now sitting at the table over from him, his head in a book and chewing his lip.

 

Seulgi was sitting across from him, whispering over a history textbook with Jinki. If he looked in between their shoulders, he could see Taemin without him seeing jongin. Just being near him was distracting, Jongin not understanding a word he was reading. Seulgi smiled at him, turning her head so her curtain of hair hid Jongin from view, but tilting her neck so he could see through. That girl was too smart for her own good.

 

Taemin’s hair was falling into his eyes and Jongin wished that he could brush it out of his face, touch Taemin’s cheek, be close to him. Not that jongin was gay or anything. It just seemed like a nice thing to be able to do. Taemin seemed like a cool guy. Jongin just wanted to be bros. Or something.

 

Soon enough, the bell was going for everyone to return to class. Jongin had succeeded in reading six lines, which was impressive, given the circumstances. He swung his bag over his shoulder and joined the mass of students heading out the door. He was currently crushed between a group of girls who were at a very unfortunate height compared to Jongin’s elbows, when Jongin walked straight into someone. Someone being Lee Taemin.

 

“Sorry,” Taemin mumbled, looking up but not meeting Jongin’s eyes. His voice was so fucking smooth, if Jongin could touch it, it’d probably feel like a unicorn’s face. Or whatever. _Play it cool Jongin, play it cool._

 

“Ah it’s my fault hyung. No worries.” Jongin said with a grin, miraculously keeping his voice steady. Was Taemin blushing or was it the light? Taemin just nodded, gave Jongin a small smile, before turning round and blending into the crowd.

 

He’d actually spoken to Taemin. And he’d not passed out, or vomited, or spat on him. Jongin felt like he could die with how happy he was. But what if he’d offended Taemin? What if he’d actually hurt him? What if Taemin was going to go tell all his friends about the annoying kid who’d walked into him? What if he never got to speak to Taemin again? What if he transferred because he hated Jongin so much? What would Jongin do then? His only solution, should that be the case, would be for Jongin to emigrate to Argentina and sell shellfish and novelty snow globes.

 

Jongin was too busy staring at the ground and thinking about what was the most economically efficient way to make said snow globes that he missed Taemin turning around in the singular entity of students and absentmindedly stare at Jongin. Maybe Jongin would know that Taemin was thinking equally as hard about how on earth he was ever going the gather up the courage to one day talk to the boy that stared at him all the time. Taemin was just thankful the boy didn't know how much Taemin stared back.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

It’s been just over a week since Taemin had met with Jongin at the coffee shop. He’d called Kris the next day, talked business with him, and complied with Kris’s request to wait a week before he called again. He said he’d needed to think things over. Taemin said he understood. It had been a relatively dry week, thin cloud interrupted by breaks of silver sky. But it was raining again.

Taemin was watching Kris walk down the street from his window. His coat collar was turned up and his hands buried deep in his pockets. He looked lost walking down a street that Taemin knew he’d grown up three blocks from. Kris had still refused to take anything that they’d shared, adamant he’d get by on his personal savings and his white collar job downtown. And Joonmyun wouldn't divorce Kris unless he took his share. Joonmyun said, and he quoted, “He gets half of everything. He's already driving me half mad.”

It made Taemin want to cry. But he didn't, just inhaled his coffee, picked up his phone, and dialled Jongin’s office.

“Food afternoon, SM lawyers speaking, how may I help you today?”

Taemin swallowed

“Is Mr Kim there? Jongin,” he remembered to add. “Kim Jongin”

There really were too many people working for SM.

Some papers shuffled before the voice picked up again “Yes sir, he’s just in his office, I’ll connect you through now. May I ask who’s calling?”

“Lee Taemin.”

If Taemin hadn't been so distracted he would've heard the voice chuckle, before another dial tone, and a voice.

“Taemin! Kris has just left right?” Jongin was too awake for Taemin to deal with right now. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

“He’s still not budging. Joon said anything?”

“Yeah, slight problem hyung. Maybe I ought to break it to you in person. Coffee?” Taemin could feel a migraine approaching from behind his eyes but something made him mumble out an agreement before hanging up, and stumbling out of the office.

 

\- - - - - - - - - - - -

_1 year, 9 months ago_

 

It was almost midnight. Taemin had only just got in. It’s New Years Day. He'd gone out for drinks with some guys from the firm. He claimed he had a headache and left early. He’d stripped down to his vest and his boxers, and he was sitting in front of the tv, clutching a beer in one hand. The sound wasn't turned on but he watches it anyway. He’s drunk, but not drunk enough yet to not notice the answering machine light blinking on his land line. He fumbled around for the button in the dark, tilting his head back and listening.

 

message received on december 31st at 3:16 am:

 

“Hello? Are you there? Tae? I've been so fucking… so fucking down lately. Like, I don't know what's happening. I'm just so tired all the time. Trying to sleep, I just… I just lay there, quiet. Can't speak cause everyone around me is passed out. My fucking mind's raging. Hello? I don't even know why I called. I think it… I think it might be time for me to leave. Just call it quits. I’m sick of this. It's the same fucking day, every day. I think I sleep…. I can't be sure though. It's all the same now. Drink, Drink, drink again. I'm tired man. I think it…it might be time… you don't want to hear this. I'm a mess. I’m sorry man. I just don't know who to turn to. No one really hears me, you know? I speak, at least, I think I speak, but no one hears me. no one ever hears me. Except you Tae. I’ve said too much. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Hello? I shouldn't have called.”

 

message deleted. end of messages.

 

Taemin leant his head down, lifted his knees into his chest, and cried.

\- - - - - - - - - - - -

 

“You look like shit,” was the first thing Jongin said to Taemin when he approached the waiting man under the red awning of the cafe. Taemin only grimaced and pushed his way inside. It was as crowded as ever, Taemin wordlessly weaving his way through the tables as Jongin joined the mile long queue. He stumbled upon a free sofa at the back and collapsed onto it, tilting his head back and letting himself close his eyes for a minute.

He was stirred by Jongin throwing himself onto the sofa next to him and pressing a huge cup into his hands. “I got you an extra shot of espresso. You need it hyung”

Taemin hummed in reply as he took a sip of his coffee. He let himself enjoy the bitter drink cover his tongue before turning to Jongin who had the look of a man about to tell him his dog didn't make it through the surgery. Jongin smiled but didn't let it reach his eyes.

“Taemin-ah, I’m not going to lie to you. It’s all gone a bit to shit. On Monday Joon came in, and he said he wanted to sell the apartment and split the money from that with Kris. Wednesday he called to say he wanted to do the same with the summer home in Jeju. Called yesterday morning to tell me scrap the Jeju home, he was gonna give it to his sister-in-law. Called me that evening to say he’d changed his mind, he wanted to sell it.”

Taemin could feel his brain melting as Jongin ran through this. Jongin realised this, so snapped his fingers in front of Taemin’s eyes. “You better be listening to this bit hyung.”

“I was in my office, minding my own business. I’d just had lunch, I was taking some personal time to have a nap, as any self respecting lawyer does, when Joonmyun comes into my office, throws himself into a chair and starts crying. You following hyung?”

Taemin nodded as he concentrated on Jongin’s nose to stay awake.

“I’m gonna cut the sentimentalities here. Joon’s brother, your cousin or something, died a few years ago, he'd just finished his military service remember? So Joonmyun looks after his sister-in-law and his niece and nephew, they moved here last year? Well his brother's wife has cancer.”

Taemin happened to be taking a sip of coffee at this time, and his body felt the need to immediately get rid of the drink in his mouth by snorting it out his nose. 

"Soojung has cancer?" he gasped, coughing as Jongin nodded, thumping his back as he continued talking.

“So Joonmyun’s in the middle of a divorce, his only immediate family over the age of four is dying. So, knowing Joonmyun, he decides to complicate this further by making me swear not to tell anyone. Anyone being Kris. But you don’t count Taemin-ah. Anyway, what do I do?”

“Well first of all,” Taemin eventually choked out, “we don’t tell Kris. it’s the clients wishes, we can’t go against it. Second of all, tell Joon not to sell his apartment, that’s dumb, and he’s not thinking straight. I’ll come to your office and talk to him. But right now Jongin, I’m sorry but I need to go home.”

Taemin stood up, shrugging his coat onto his shoulders and attempting to squeeze out of his seat. Instead however, his brain catches up with him. The last thing Taemin sees are black spots in front of his eyes and the steadily approaching floor.

 

The first thing Taemin is aware of is the pain in his head. The lights are bright as he opens his eyes and the noise is harsh. He tries to speak but all that comes out is a cough. Someone helps him sit up and he realises a small crowd has formed around him.

“Where’s Jongin?” Taemin asks, looking around.

“I’m here Tae,” Jongin replies.

“Was I out for long?”

“A couple of minutes,” someone replies, pressing a glass of water into his hand.

Taemin turns to see Jongin kneeling next to him, his face white. Taemin stifles a laugh as he looks at him.

“That bad huh?” Jongin gives him a watery smile as he reaches out a hand to stroke taemin’s cheek. Taemin allows himself to accept the gesture and pretends not to notice his cheek burning, despite Jongin's hands being perpetually cold.

Taemin makes a move to stand up but is pushed back down by Jongin.

“I need to get home Nin.” Taemin sighs. Jongin grimaces as he nods, standing first before pulling Taemin up. The people around them part as they leave, Jongin thanking and apologising to anyone he sees as he pushes his way through the cafe, holding onto Taemin with his arm around his waist.

“You can just walk me to the subway Jongin.”

“Are you sure you’re not delirious Tae?” Jongin scoffed, “I’m not going to leave you to go back home by yourself.”

Taemin just smiles as Jongin helps him onto the escalator down into the station. They’re standing on the platform in silence, when Taemin realises Jongin’s wrapped his scarf around his neck. Taemin buries his face into it, to protect himself from the draft of the tunnel of course.

The subway car is packed when it arrives, and the passengers make no move to get off. They squeeze into the car, wedged between an old lady and a high school student. Taemin can’t quite reach the upper handrail, so just clings to Jongin as the train lurches forward. He only lives two stops away, so of course it’s just easier to hold onto Jongin right now. And Jongin is so warm and Taemin is so cold, and tired, and Jongin smells so good, maybe he won’t notice if Taemin just closes his eyes for a minute…

 

Jongin gently shakes Taemin’s shoulders when they reach his stop just before the train goes under the river. Taemin looks up and rubs at his eyes like a little kid and Jongin denies the fact that his heart is swelling like an overfilled balloon. Taemin pouts at having been wakened but Jongin just smiles as he wraps his arm around Taemin’s waist as he guides him out the station and out into street.

It’s still raining as Jongin semi jogs Taemin to his apartment. Taemin doesn't question that Jongin still knows the way to his apartment, still knows Taemin lives on the twenty-fourth floor, six doors from the elevator, right side of the hall. Still knows Taemin keeps his key in the left inside pocket of his jacket, the position of the light switches, where Taemin puts his shoes and his coat, how to get to Taemin’s bedroom, and which side of the bed Taemin sleeps on.

Jongin helps Taemin into bed, stripping him of his shirt and his trousers. Jongin ignores the scars down Taemin’s arm, choosing instead to cover him with the blanket and to head into the kitchen to make tea.

 

\- - - - - - - - - - - - -

_3 years, 10 months ago_

 

“Taemin-ah!” Jongin calls, peeling off his shoes and walking into the hall “You better be awake, I’m hungry and I just came here in the rain to see you. This dissertation is gonna kill me, who knew being a lawyer was gonna be so hard? Still, not long now. Tae?”

 

Jongin goes into the living room. No Taemin. The kitchen. No Taemin. The bedroom, the study, the balcony. No Taemin. But his shoes were still in the hall, his mobile is on the counter. The only place left was the bathroom, but Taemin never showers at night. So why is the door locked? Why are the lights off? And why is there no sound except for running water?

 

“Tae? Tae. I’m coming in.” Jongin shakes the handle, but it doesn't budge. There’s no sound. Is that water creeping under the door? Taemin never locks the door, what’s he doing in there? Jongin slams his fist on the door, kicking above the handle before it swings open.

 

The floor is covered in water overflowing from the bath. The bath that is swirling with blood. Taemin’s blood. His hair is slicked against his head, his face is pale, his eyes are closed. He’s lying in water, his head leaning back against the taps, his vest is clinging to his chest. And there’s deep cuts down Taemin’s left arm.

 

Jongin stumbles forward and pulls the plug, draining the bathtub.

 

“Tae? Tae, stay with me,” Jongin rips the hem off his shirt, he never liked it that much anyway, wrapping the fabric around Taemin’s arm. He climbs into the now empty bath, cradling Taemin against his chest, and pulling his phone from his pocket.

 

“119, what is your emergency?”

 

“Please, you have to help me, he’s bleeding, there’s blood everywhere, he’s not waking up, I’m trying but he just won’t wake up.”

 

“Sir, remain calm. Is he breathing?”

 

“Yes, yes he’s breathing, but he’s so cold, please, you have to help me.”

 

“Okay sir, can you give me your address? An emergency team is on their way.”

 

Jongin recites it on autopilot, ignoring the rest of what the operator says, holding Taemin into his chest, and pushing the fabric onto his arm. He’s trying to stop the bleeding, why isn't it working, why is he bleeding so much? Jongin didn't even think there was that much blood in Taemin, why is it all out of him? Why isn't he waking up?

 

“Tae please, I can’t lose you, please, you have to wake up, I love you, I need you, please Taemin.”

 

Soon, paramedics are filing in to the bathroom. Jongin forgot to lock the front door. That’s how they find them, a young man holding a pale, wet, bloodstained man to his chest, mumbling into his hair and rocking back and forth. A young girl steps forward, placing her hand on Jongin’s shoulder.

 

“Sir? We need to take your friend. We need to take him to the hospital. I know you’re scared, but you need to let go now.”

 

Jongin only holds onto Taemin tighter. “I can’t leave him, I need him. He’s not waking up, you have to help me.”

 

“We can help you sir, but we need to take your friend now. You can come with us, but you have to let go of him now. Okay?”

 

Jongin nods, not lifting his eyes from Taemin. His shirt is clinging to his body, damp with water and his own blood. His bleached hair is soaked and his face is the colour of ash. Jongin watches as they carry him out on a stretcher, and allows himself to be helped out of the bath and out into the hall. He’s led down into the lobby. The old ajumma who lives across the hall from Taemin is waiting outside the elevator. She takes a look at the ambulance outside, at the figure being carried out on a stretcher, and the iron grip the paramedics have on Jongin’s shoulders. She doesn't say anything, but she takes her necklace off and presses it into his palm. It's a small silver pendant, with a carving of St. Jude in the centre. She smiles.

 

Jongin is walked into the ambulance. Taemin is lying next to him, wrapped in thermal blankets and an oxygen mask covering his face. The sirens scream in Jongin’s ears as the ambulance tears its way to the hospital. A crowd of doctors are waiting outside. They unload taemin from the ambulance before they surround the stretcher, running with it into the building. Another pair of doctors help Jongin out from the ambulance and walk him into A&E. It’s busy, but the people in the waiting room eye him with pity. He’s walked over to a bed. The nurses begin to search for injuries. That’s when Jongin notices his shirt is completely covered in blood.

 

“It’s not mine,” he croaks. “none of it’s mine, it’s Tae’s blood. He was bleeding all over the place, he was so cold, but he was bleeding. And it’s all over me now, he was so cold, please you have to help me, he needs me, he’s bleeding, I need him.”

 

The nurses make soothing noises as they make him take sips of water, murmuring to each other about shock treatment and Taemin. They wait till he’s calm, signing paperwork, and letting him go. Jongin asks at the desk. Taemin’s in surgery. The blood loss put too much strain on his heart. They said he's going to go into a coma. Jongin wanders over to the waiting area. He lifts his knees to his chest, leans his head down, and prays.

\- - - - - - - - - - - -

 

Taemin wakes to a cup of cold tea and a dark room. He swings his feet over the side of the bed, waiting for the blood to catch up before standing. He fumbles his way out of his room and into the hall, running his hand across the wall to find his way to the living room. Jongin’s lying back, passed out on the sofa, his shirt unbuttoned, tie flung onto the floor next to him. The TV's playing on old episode of We Got Married with no sound. Taemin hasn't seen Jongin look so calm for what feels like a lifetime. Taemin throws a blanket over Jongin before settling next to him and changing the channel.

Jongin woke up an hour later. Taemin wasn't sure what he was watching but it was funny. So funny apparently that he felt the need to laugh so hard the tea he’d made came out his nose. This had woken Jongin, who wasn't sure whether to be worried about Taemin or to film him. They sit in silence now, watching the TV, neither quite sure whether or not they wanted to say anything.

“Are you getting enough sleep Taemin?” Jongin finally asked.

“No,” Taemin simply answered.“it’s been hard.”

“Are you still taking your medicine? Did you take it this morning? I can make you something, you should be taking them with meals.”

“I’m fine Jongin,” Taemin replied, not unkindly, “and please don’t make anything, I don’t really feel like having to buy a new apartment if you get me evicted for setting the place on fire. I've grown attached to this mess. I ordered in a while ago, it should be here soon.”

Jongin hummed in satisfaction as they settled back to watching the tv. Soon enough, the doorbell rang. Taemin went to answer, grabbing some money from the side table as he pulled the door open. It was only when the delivery boy was standing in front of him, he remembered he wasn't wearing a shirt. Taemin at least had the decency to be embarrassed as he handed over the money. The delivery guy just smirked as he walked away, Taemin stammering out a thank you as he disappeared down the hall.

Taemin was the colour of a sunset as he carried the food in. Jongin just laughed as Taemin laid out the food. They ate in silence, each inhaling half their body weight in chicken, Jongin washing it down with a bottle of soju he'd found gathering dust in Taemin's kitchen. When they’d finished they dumped the containers into the trash, and Jongin sat and watched as Taemin searched through his cabinet for the three glass bottles.

A blue and white one. A blue and yellow one. Two small blue ones that looked like candy.

Jongin watched as Taemin knocked them back with a mouthful of water. His eyes followed Taemin’s throat as if he was watching the pills disappear down Taemin’s neck and into his stomach. Maybe if he watched them, he’d be able to see them working.

“Do you want me to talk to Joonmyun on Monday?” Taemin asks, breaking the silence. Jongin nods, not trusting himself to speak. "It’s late. Do you want to go home, or do you want to just crash on the couch?”

“Is that okay?” Jongin asks, stretching his arms above his head. Taemin nods as he puts the medicine away, wandering off to look for blankets. Jongin watches him as he walks down the hall, dropping his eyes to his lap and wondering how he could've been so stupid.

He’d always known Taemin was more introverted, more quiet, than Jongin himself was. He knew he got lonely sometimes, that he would work himself to death if left alone. Taemin had trouble talking to new people, which was why it was Jongin who approached Taemin at a family friends wedding, telling him he went to his high school so why not get drunk together? If it weren't for Jongin, Taemin had told him, he’d have just made awkward eye contact at him the whole night, and then feel embarrassed about it for the rest of the year. He knew Taemin drank a lot, a lot more than anyone Jongin knew, and that was saying something. He knew he was a sad drunk, that he’d cry onto anyone who was around, as Jongin learnt after countless nights of Taemin sobbing into his shoulder.

But Jongin didn't know how much Taemin drank when Jongin wasn't around, how his water bottle was filled with vodka more often than not, that he was going through four packs of cigarettes a day. He didn't know Taemin was crying about everything, didn't know how lonely Taemin felt even surrounded by dozens of people, how bad Taemin felt about himself for still feeling sad when he was around Jongin. Jongin didn't know how much Taemin hurt, how hard he was working, how late he’d stay up, and how he constantly felt he was letting everyone down. Like he would never be good enough, for his family, his friends. Never be good enough for Jongin.

Jongin should've known. That Taemin shouldn't have flinched whenever someone grabbed his arm, he shouldn't have worn long sleeves in August, that it wasn't normal for Taemin to forever be clutching onto Jongin like he was the only thing keeping him where he was. But he’d never seen Taemin as anything other than completely perfect, brushing off his flaws as quirks that just made him even better in Jongin’s eyes. So how could Jongin have not stopped Taemin from lying in a bathtub and cutting his wrist open? How could Jongin have been so stupid.

 

\- - - - - - - - - - - - -

_2 years, 3 months ago_

It was raining, and Taemin was alone. He’d done something terrible that day. It was 4 AM. He’d done something terrible.

Taemin had been a little bit drunk, Jongin more so. They’d been at a party. Taemin swore to Jongin he’d stop drinking after “the accident” as Jongin called it. Taemin took his medication, most of the time. He’d gone to therapy, and he was all better. Fixed. Nothing wrong anymore.

They’d been walking home. The party was near Jongin’s apartment so they’d headed back to his house. Jongin was a lot more drunk than Taemin was, and he didn't often drink so it had more of an effect on him when he did. He’d been ranting and raving about something and Taemin hadn't really been listening. His head snapped up when Jongin grabbed his arm, looked him dead in the eye, and spoke with more clarity than he had all night.

“And you. Lee Taemin. I hate you sometimes y’know. Really hate you. You never told me. You were gonna fucking kill yourself. Didn't you stop to fucking think about me? How it would've hurt me? Couldn't you stop to think for one fucking minute how I would've felt? I found you lying in the bathtub in your own blood.”

They’d stopped in the middle of the street now, and were facing each other. Jongin’s eyes were watery and he was swaying where he stood. Taemin knew Jongin wouldn't remember this in the morning but he couldn't bring himself to stop Jongin from speaking.

“You were cold, you were so cold. I came in and there was water and blood everywhere and you were so cold Tae. And I thought you were dead. I thought you were dead Taemin. And I had to ride in the ambulance and watch as they took you into surgery. There was so much blood, they thought i was the one who was bleeding. Did I ever tell you that? There was so much blood on my shirt they thought I was the one bleeding. I had to take it off, I sat in my vest while I waited for you to get out of surgery. And I kept the shirt. I kept the fucking shirt, it’s in my closet. I haven’t got rid of it, what the fuck is wrong with me Tae, I kept the shirt, it’s covered in blood, your blood. I take it out sometimes and I look at it, and I cry, I fucking cry, cause why wasn't I good enough for you? Why wasn't I good enough for you to stay?”

Jongin seemed to be begging Taemin for an answer but when he opened his mouth no sound came out. Jongin turned away from him, and appeared to be speaking to the wall.

“You were in surgery for so long. My sisters came to bring me food cause I didn't wanna leave. And you were asleep and I stayed. And I sat by your bed and waited for you to wake up. Six fucking days Taemin. And you didn't remember what happened. You didn't remember me finding you, or holding you, or fucking crying into your hair. I thought you were dead. And now you take your medicine and don’t talk about it. Why couldn't you talk about it? Why wouldn't you tell me what was wrong?”

He turned again, staring at Taemin with those fucking eyes that made him feel like he was falling.

“Say something. You don’t get to try to kill yourself and not give me an answer. I was in that fucking waiting room and I decided if you died in there on that operating table, I’d go up to the roof and jump, or drink cleaning fluid, or go throw myself onto the subway tracks. That’s how fucked up you made me. I know telling you that I lo- that I care about you isn't going to be enough to keep the blood in your veins from spilling to the bathroom floor or stop your hands from shaking as you drown in your own fucking tears but I haven't gone a day without thinking about you since we were sixteen. You thought that I’d be able to handle you dying? I can’t live without you Taemin, why can’t you see that? ”

Jongin was fully crying now. His shoulders slumped and Taemin realised he was crying too. Jongin wouldn't remember this, but Taemin knew he would. He put his arm round Jongin and started to walk him back home.

Into the lift, along the hall, into the apartment, and into bed. Taemin walked into the kitchen and got Jongin a glass of water and two packs of Advil, which he left on Jongin’s bedside table. He tore off a sheet of paper from the notepad on Jongin’s desk and wrote.

 

_Jongin,_

_You told me you can’t live without me but you're going to have to one day. It’s easier for you if I leave. Move on with your life. It’ll be happier without me in it. You don't know it yet, but you’re better off without me. You’ll understand one day._

_I love you_

_Taemin_

 

Jongin mumbled in his sleep, rolling over and opening his eyes halfway, not really seeing anything.

“It hurts Taemin. Is it supposed to hurt?”

“Go back to sleep Jongin.”

Taemin ran his hand over Jongin’s hair who sighed and closed his eyes.

Taemin folded up the note and left it next to the water. He called his office and left a voicemail, requesting for some time off. With all the overtime he worked, he was definitely owed some. Then he called his cousin Luhan, letting him know he’d be in China on vacation for the next month or so. He’d call him when he got to Beijing, he’d like to meet his new boyfriend. And finally, he called the phone company, asking for a temporary block on the following numbers.

He sat on the side of Jongin’s bed for a while, just watching him sleep. Then he stood up, took one last look around Jongin’s room, and left.

\- - - - - - - - - - - -

 

Taemin took a deep breath before pushing open the glass doors. He made his way into the crowded elevator and tried not to breathe. It'd been two weeks since he'd last seen Jongin. He’d been caught up in a custody case, and it was only now he that was able to get out the office. The elevator stopped at floor thirty two and he, along with too many other people, made his way out. He was in a sleek looking lobby, illuminated by large windows. The rain trickled down the glass, making the city outside look fuzzy. Taemin made his way to the shiny wooden desk and waited for the receptionist to hang up the phone.

“Good afternoon sir, how may I help you?”

“I’m here to see Kim Jongin? I’m representing his client's husband.”

“Ah, the famous Lee Taemin. One moment sir,” the receptionist held up a finger as they picked up the phone. Famous?

Taemin fiddled with his cufflinks as the receptionist spoke quietly down the phone. They hung up and smiled at Taemin, going back to typing. He was about to ask if he should sit down when they looked up and smiled at Taemin again.

“Why-“

“Taemin-ah!”

Taemin turned to see Jongin barreling down the corridor, oblivious to the people around him staring. He launched himself at taemin, wrapping him in a tight hug before throwing an arm around his shoulder and pulling him down the hall.

“How’ve you been hyung? Not working too hard? Joon’s so excited to see you, he bets you've grown but I told him you’ve been the same height since we were eighteen. He’s dyed his hair again, it’s blond now, don’t say anything unless you actually like it. I personally think he should've gone for a warmer tone…”

Taemin zoned out as Jongin continued to talk, painfully aware of his arm around his shoulder. Taemin looked around. How big was this place? There were countless numbers of offices, and everywhere Taemin looked, pretty girls and even prettier guys where leaning against walls drinking coffee. A couple nodded at Jongin, who waved but didn't stop talking. Some smirked and murmured to their friends, jerking their heads in taemin’s direction. Finally, Jongin pulled Taemin into a room and kicked the door shut. It was reasonably sized, a bookshelf, a desk, a couple of chairs, and a swivel chair, which was all Jongin wanted out of his life he’d once said. The wall behind his desk was covered in certificates, framed photographs, and four different clocks set to four different times.

Sitting in front of the desk was Kim Joonmyun. He stood when Taemin came into the room, unsure of whether or not to step forward. In a rare burst of confidence, Taemin pulled Joonmyun into a hug, holding the slightly smaller man into his chest. Joonmyun sank into Taemin, letting out a deep breath. He smiled as he pulled back. He looked tired but still seemed calm, he had an air of stillness around him. Maybe that was the best thing about Joonmyun. He always seemed to make it easier to breathe.

“Nice to see you Taemin.” Joonmyun’s voice was scratchy but his eyes were warm as he looked at his cousin.

“You too hyung.”

Taemin sat down, leaving Jongin to sit in his swivel chair. It was slightly daunting sitting across from Jongin like this. He seemed different, more professional, his face looking more angular and disinterested than Taemin usually saw. He was doing his lawyer face. The moment was broken by Jongin splitting into wide grin and resting his cheek on his palm.

“So Joon. Tell Taemin what you want to do.” Jongin said this with the air of speaking to a petulant toddler, even though Joonmyun was several years his senior. Joonmyun pouted as he turned to Taemin.

“I won’t divorce Kris unless he takes half of everything. It’s the right thing to do, and it’s the only thing I’m going to do. If this is what he says he wants to do, I'll do it. But I’ll do it the way I see is right.”

“You make a good point Joonmyun,” Taemin agreed. “I see where you’re coming from. But Mr Wu has made it clear he doesn't want any of it. I’ve tried to reason with him but he is simply refusing to negotiate. Might I make a suggestion?”

Joonmyun nodded and Taemin eyed Jongin out the side of his eye. Jongin knew Taemin was pulling out one of his best tricks. Taemin kept his face blank, levelling his voice so it sounded as though he had only just thought of what he was about to say. He chose his words carefully, making his opinion seem neutral but slightly biased in Joonmyun’s favour. It was how Taemin got people to what he wanted, something he’d perfected in high school when he wanted Jongin’s sisters to buy him food when they'd grown sick of his aegyo.

“Jongin has informed me of Soojung’s illness.” Joonmyun’s face fell as he stared at his folded hands in his lap. “She’s staying in the hospital now for the foreseeable future isn't she, to receive treatment? And you’re looking after her children?” Taemin took his silence as confirmation.

“Mightn't it be wiser, for your sister and her children's benefit, to keep the money? Children are expensive, and I’m certain she’s needing extra care outside of what’s already covered by insurance. Should she remain sick for a long period of time, I assume she’ll be unable to work? The children will need looked after. School fees, clothes, food, birthdays, Christmas. I assume they’ve moved in with you, now she’s living in hospital?”

Taemin could see Joonmyun’s face had paled as he nodded. Jongin was staring at taemin, watching in apparent fascination.

"And, forgive me for having to mention it hyung, but should she pass away, you will become the children's legal guardian, correct? Which means you’ll have to work less, having to look after two children, barely school age. The boy, Jihoon, he’s three isn't he? And Jimin just turned five a few weeks ago. She’ll be starting school in a few months won’t she?”

Taemin could see joonmyun knew all this, but had been ignoring it, either out of having more important things to think about, or denying any of it would need to be thought about.

“You see hyung,” Jongin said, his voice soft “it’s in the children's best interest you take the money. Or if this is truly upsetting you, maybe you can negotiate a different split of the assets? Say, you take ninety percent? Eighty maybe?”

Jongin stopped to let Joonmyun think but Taemin spoke up, his voice shaky.

“If you’re worried about seeming selfish Joon, don’t be. You’re not taking the money, you’re saving it for the kids. You ought to be prepared for the worst hyung.” Taemin tried to keep his voice level but he couldn't stop the quiver in his words.

Taemin had liked Soojung, the times he had met her. They’d had a quiet wedding, and Taemin never saw Joonmyun’s brother much, they lived down in Busan. Soojung moved to Seoul with the kids after her husband died, and even then she didn't have much contact with the family. Taemin hadn't even known they were living in Seoul till a few months ago but the thought of Joonmyun having to go through this was harder on him than he thought it would be.

“I… I need some time to think. I don’t know -“

“I’ll get some coffee” Jongin said. Taemin watched him go, before standing up and stretching, wandering over to look at Jongin’s wall. His desk was cluttered, stacks of papers and coffee rings staining the dark wood, a couple of photographs balanced precariously in between the havoc.

One of Jongin’s parents, smiling in front of a mountain. A picture of him and his sisters, taken on their trip to Thailand when Jongin was in middle school, and he had an unfortunately shaped bowl cut. A professionally taken picture of his niece, Rahee, smiling in her school uniform and little pigtails. One taken of their high school year group on graduation, their entire year spread across the bleachers. Taemin found Jongin, his hair still untouched by bleach and hair dye, his smile forced. Taemin found himself too, his hair well past his shoulders and tied in a ponytail but still falling into his eyes. Taemin smiled at that, remembering when Jongin had gone with him to get it all cut off. He’d cried a little.

But one was facing down, the one closest to his computer screen. Taemin flipped it up to see himself. they were maybe twenty in the picture. Taemin remembered that night. It was new year's eve, and they wanted to get drunk for free. They’d gone out to some house party and gotten wasted within five minutes of arriving. Well, Taemin had anyway. The photo was framed but creased slightly, as though it was taken out of the frame often. Jongin had an arm slung around Taemin's shoulder, a lazy grin on his face as he stared into the camera. Taemin was mid-laugh, (probably at something Jongin had said that no one else thought was funny), leaning into Jongin's neck. One hand lightly clutching the hand around his shoulder, the other holding a beer bottle. The flash made their faces glow and the background black, distorted bodies moving behind them. They looked peaceful. They looked drunk. They looked happy.

Taemin smiled as he looked at the picture. Looking back, things had been easier when he was with Jongin. Taemin wouldn't hide the fact that everything was shit then. He drank too much, smoked too much, worked too much. A year later he tried to kill himself. But when he was with Jongin, he didn't feel so bad. He wasn't so worried about everything, everything would be okay if they kept laughing, kept drinking, kept together.

 

\- - - - - - - - - - - -

_6 years, 10 months ago_

 

“Okay, your go.”

 

“Something I’ve never told anyone? Ah, okay, I never finished the great gatsby but I've submitted my paper on it for my college application.”

 

Taemin sat up in the bed next to him, looking at Jongin like he’d just told him he’d committed treason.

 

“What?” Taemin exclaimed, before clasping his hand to his mouth, remembering that Jongin’s sister was asleep in the room next door. Jongin laughed, lying back as Taemin launched into a spiel about the book. Jongin zoned out. It was late and Jongin was tired. Jongin loved the way Taemin spoke when he was talking about something he loved. Jongin closed his eyes and let the sound of the other boys words wash over him.

 

“...so you see, Daisy is a symbol for Gatsby’s obsession with the wealthy and his own vision of who he wishes to be. ‘tumbled short of his dreams’, Daisy will never be as good a person as Gatsby believes her to be, not through any of her own fault, but because his expectations of her are impossible to live up to. Je fails to notice her imperfections and how much she is suffering under those expectations, because he believes her to be above things such as pain, which ties back to how his vision for his own life will never be realised due to - Jongin are you listening?”

 

“Huh? Yeah Tae, you were saying?”

 

“No, it’s fine,” Taemin said, “sometimes I talk too much about stuff like this, I’m sorry. You don’t care about any of this, I’m sorry-“

 

“Taemin,” Jongin said, eyes still closed. “shut up. Don’t ever apologise for loving something, no matter what other people say.”

 

“Wow jongin” Taemin said, laughing, “I never knew you could say something like that with a straight face”

 

“I can be deep,” Jongin said indignantly, “you don’t know me like that.”

 

“You’re an idiot.”

 

“You know you love me” Jongin replied, playfully smug.

 

Taemin was glad it was so dark or Jongin would've seen his face turn a lovely pastel pink colour.

 

“Go to sleep Jongin,” Taemin said. He lay back and thought about what Jongin had said. What did Jongin know about love when the closest thing he felt was the feeling he got when Taemin bought him chicken?

\- - - - - - - - - - - -

 

Taemin made his way back to the other side of the desk, flopping back in his seat and kicking his legs up on top of a pile of papers. Soon enough, Jongin came in, clutching three cups of coffee. How he hadn't fallen over, Taemin would never know. The coffee was okay actually, and Jongin always made good coffee, despite the fact he only drank the stuff out of necessity. Joonmyun accepted his cup, still staring at his lap. The three of them sat in comfortable silence, hushed until Joonmyun spoke.

“I'll split it 75 to 25. That’s all I’m doing. Tell Kris what’s happening, I don’t care, but that’s the most I’m doing. Tell him to take the god damn money or tell him to drop this whole divorce business and give me some peace.”

Taemin nodded, letting the room fall silent again.

“Regarding the Jeju house-“ Jongin started before being interrupted by his phone ringing. Jongin answered and listened for a moment before holding the phone out. “It’s for you.” he said to Taemin, his face mildly uncomfortable. Taemin reached for the phone, again ignoring how his hand touched Jongin’s.

“Taemin!" Naeun's voice chirped down the line "Mr Wu came by, he said he’s going to China for a week and asked you to call him tomorrow. I’d tell you when you get back but I’ll probably forget and I assumed you’d be a while. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, that's fine. I don’t know if I’ll go back, it’s late and I’m hungry. Did you eat?”

Naeun only hummed and Taemin could picture her nodding before realising Taemin couldn’t see her.

“I’m going out later with Seulgi. I’ll tell her you both said hey. Tell Jongin I say hello why don’t you?”

“I will. Take care Manyeo,” Taemin could hear Naeun giggling as she hung up. Son Naeun had gone to high school with him, and was the only girl he’d managed to talk to without turning into a gibbering idiot. Jongin had never seemed to like her much.

“Naeun says hey,” Taemin said as he handed back the phone. Jongin clicked his tongue as he stuck the phone back in its holder, not meeting Taemin’s eyes. “Mr Wu came by. He’s gone to China for a couple days, he says I’m to call him tomorrow.”

Joonmyun’s face twisted when Taemin mentioned Kris. Taemin was again made aware of how tired he looked.

“Maybe we should call it a day,” Jongin said, saying what Taemin was thinking. “I’ll call you tomorrow Joon, okay?”

Joonmyun only nodded again, pulling on his coat and squeezing Taemin’s shoulder as he left.

Taemin watched him go before turning to Jongin. “More paperwork for us to do?” Jongin grinned as he gathered up the papers and stood up, reaching for his coat and umbrella. It was raining again.

 

And so they found themselves in the coffee shop again, busy as ever. Jongin had pushed his wallet into Taemin’s hand, saying he was tired so he’d go find a seat. Taemin waited in the queue, opening Jongin’s wallet to get the money ready for when he eventually was served. There was all the standard wallet things, money, an unused drivers license, an organ donor card. And tucked behind it was a photograph. Taemin pulled it out, already knowing what it was.

During the summer of their second year of university, Taemin and Jongin had gone to Lotte world with some friends. They'd done a promotion that summer, open all night for students. In between roller coasters, at some ungodly hour of the morning, the two of them had squeezed into a photo booth. The picture was bent, and ripped at the edge. They were leaning into each other, poking their tongues out and holding up peace signs. They were mid laugh when the photo was taken, their eyes folded into crescents. Taemin knew exactly what it was when he pulled it out. He had the other photo in his own wallet.

That one was different. They’d been a little drunk, on soju and adrenaline. Jongin isn’t even looking at the camera, he’s looking at Taemin. In moments like those, he could honestly believe that maybe.… but now, Taemin feels scared, a little apprehensive. He used to be able to read Jongin like an open book, but now that book may as well have been written in Ancient Greek. The photo had been in Taemin’s wallet since that night, when they’d ripped it in half and each stuck one in their wallets for safe keeping. Taemin had never taken it out, and neither had Jongin apparently.

Taemin ordered, waited, and carried the drinks to the table. The strongest coffee he could get, and some whipped cream sugar monstrosity for Jongin. Jongin had paperwork laid out over the table and was sitting with his head supported in one hand, the other running through his hair. He was frowning as he stared at the tabletop, but smiled as Taemin sat down. He knocked down his coffee and smiled back, mentally preparing himself for another three hours of work.

 

\- - - - - - - - - - - -

_8 years, 11 months ago_

 

Taemin was leaning back in his seat with his legs kicked up watching everybody dance. It was a relatively upbeat song but Joonmyun was leaning into Kris’s chest, his arms wrapped around the taller man's waist as they swayed in time to the music and Kris stared at the floor. It was late, nearing midnight, but no one seemed to notice. It was almost completely dark in the room, save for the flashing lights on the dance floor. The weather had been dismal, but Kris and joonmyun had ran out of the church after the ceremony in the rain, confetti caught in their hair as they clambered into the wedding car.

 

It was a relatively big wedding for two college kids, friends from university and high school, all of Joonmyun’s various relatives making up most of those in attendance. Kris’s brother hadn't made it over from China, saying he had business to take care of. His cousin Zitao had managed to though, and was making out with Joon’s cousin Sehun in the corner.

 

Taemin had only seen Joonmyun a couple of times since he'd started high school. He’d always been kind to him when Taemin was young, putting up with the annoying kids at family parties, always listening to Taemin and the various other children that seemed to hang around Joonmyun like lost puppies. He wasn't quite sure how he was related to Joonmyun but when he’d heard from his uncle that he was getting married and they were all invited, well, Taemin wasn't going to pass up an opportunity for the chance to get drunk.

 

Taemin was sufficiently buzzed, and he wasn't quite sure how he was going to stand up. He wasn't the only one sitting alone getting drunk, there was a tall guy splayed out half asleep a couple tables over who may or may not have been crying. But Taemin was a dance machine, or so he told himself, and he was weighing up the pros and cons of getting up to go to the dance floor when he was aware of someone thumping into the chair next to him. Taemin looked over and his breath caught in his throat.

 

Taemin knew this boy. He was in 2B, across the hall from Taemin’s class. Taemin didn’t know much about him. He must be a bit of a perfectionist because it seemed every time Taemin looked into the other classroom he could see the boy sharpening his pencil. He’d bumped into him in the library once, and Taemin spent the rest of the day thinking about how he’d felt pressed up against him. He mentioned the incident to his friend Naeun, who grinned knowingly and told him his name was Jongin. She knew him vaguely, she’d said, that he was friends with Seulgi so she’d seen him around. He danced, she’d said, and Taemin smiled, knowing they had something in common at least. But what was he doing here then?

 

“Bride or groom?” Jongin asked.

 

“G-groom.”

 

“Which one?” Jongin asked with a grin, amused by his own joke.

 

“Joonmyun,” taemin replied, amazed that he’d kept his voice steady “you?”

 

“Kris hyung is friends with my sisters. I’m here as their chaperone.” Jongin nodded to the dance floor where a pretty girl was dancing with a tall man with... blue hair? “The older one, she’s getting married next year so she’s trying to go to as many weddings as possible to copy flower bouquet designs.”

 

Taemin smiled and the two lapsed into silence and stared at the dancers for a while.

 

“You’re in my year aren't you? I see you sharpening your pencil from my seat.”

 

Jongin flushed before laughing and nodding.

 

“Yeah I can always see you, you never seem to be paying much attention.” Taemin laughed at that, the awkward feeling between them dissipating.

 

“Do you want to go find more beer?”

 

“Sure.” Taemin agreed.

 

The two stood, Taemin swaying a bit. Jongin put his arm round Taemin’s waist to steady him. He laughed again, Jongin moving his hand to Taemin’s arm as he dragged him off to the bar. Taemin let himself be pulled, painfully aware of the feeling of Jongin’s arm around his waist and how he looked under the flashing lights.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

It was raining. Again. Taemin supposed he was glad, there’d been an awful drought in the summer and he’d had to take thirty second showers which wreaked havoc on his haircare routine. But it meant the coffee shop, (who’s baristas now knew him by name), was almost always full. He’d taken to meeting with Jongin after work, where they’d sit in silence and do paperwork. It was easier when he had a second opinion, Taemin supposed, and the coffee here was miles better than any he could make at the office. Naeun always laughed whenever he explained his reasoning, but she refused to tell Taemin why.

Taemin would never admit to himself he liked spending time with Jongin, and that he’d put off doing paperwork so he had an excuse to stay with Jongin for that little bit longer, who always seemed swamped with work. Taemin assumed it was because of the firm giving him extra cases, who were notorious for overworking their employees. Jongin would also never admit to himself that the reason he was doing his colleagues paperwork for them, and taking on extra cases was so he could also spend more time with Taemin.

 

Jongin’s home never really felt like his own, more that he was just a guest. His neighbour, Kibum, had been kind, giving Jongin a hand moving in, which led to them becoming drinking buddies. Kibum had his own stuff going on, his best friend was a photographer and said friend was never home, travelling for work for months at a time. But when he was back, Kibum'd disappear for a week before resurfacing looking sadder than before. So he and Jongin would take turns leaving depressing voice mails and getting shit faced. But Kibum always got a reply in the morning.

Kibum tried to make it more homely, helping jongin put up photos and trying to involve Jongin in cleaning and grocery shopping and other domestic tasks. But he always found himself feeling like a stranger in his own apartment. So maybe it was okay Jongin spent more time in the office than at home. Home had never really been something Jongin could picture. Home wasn't his building, or even his parents house. Home wasn't his college dorm, and home wasn't the house they’d lived in when he was in primary school. Home wasn't his uncle’s beach house, or either of his sisters apartments, or his grandma's home in Jeolla.

No, whenever Jongin thought of home, he couldn't picture a place. No matter how hard he tried, he found himself thinking of Taemin’s laugh, and the mole on his left shoulder blade. His eyes when he smiled, and how he scrunched up his nose when he was thinking. How he’d often frown in his sleep, and the way he’d hum to himself as he wandered around his apartment. The way he took his coffee, and how he looked when he just woke up, and the tone of his voice when he said Jongin’s name.

Maybe Taemin was Jongin’s home, he’d thought to himself one night, when he was a little bit drunk and Kibum was away. Maybe the reason Jongin had felt so lost this past while was because he’d not seen Taemin for two years and he felt like he was drowning. But that’s stupid, he’d thought. Home can’t be a person. And Taemin is happier now. So Jongin had gone to bed, and definitely not dreamt of Taemin calling out his name.

But Jongin would never tell Taemin any of this. He couldn't. Maybe he should've put up a fight, Jongin mused, looking across his coffee cup at Taemin. He was concentrated on the paper in front of him, scratching his biro furiously at the page, his tongue poking out between his teeth like it always did when he wrote. His hair was getting long again, a strand hanging in front of his eyes. He looked painfully like he did that day when Jongin bumped into him in the library. He never did finish reading The Great Gatsby, just watched the film. He got a good grade on his paper and it got him into college, which was pretty impressive if Jongin said so himself.

Sometimes Jongin reached a point where he was unable to concentrate on things anymore. Everything got too loud and too bright and his thoughts were going too fast to let him slow down and think. So he found himself staring at Taemin as he wrote, focusing on the curve of his fingers and how cold his hands had always been. He didn't know how long he’d been looking at Taemin but it must’ve been a while as when he looked up the cafe was significantly quieter and Taemin was saying his name.

“Huh?”

“I was just asking you if you were tired. Are you okay Jonginnie? Are you sleeping enough?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine, I just didn't sleep very well last night. It’s nothing."

“That’s not like you Nin. Why couldn't you sleep?”

_Because I can't stop thinking about how you move, how your skin feels under my hands, how safe I feel in your arms. Because the only thing I can hear is you calling out my name, the only thing I see when I close my eyes is your silhouette and I reach my hands out as I hover in between waking and sleep, somehow hoping I'll feel you lying next to me._

“Watched a scary movie before I went to bed.”

Taemin rolled his eyes, before taking a gulp of his coffee.

“C’mon, it’s late. We should go.”

“Yeah. Yeah, let’s go. I’ll walk you to the subway.”

 

Kris had been sitting in front of Taemin for about five minutes now, neither of them saying anything. To be perfectly honest, Kris looked like shit. His eyes were bagged and bloodshot. His hair was dishevelled, and wasn't helped by Kris running his hands through it every five seconds. He still managed to look effortlessly attractive but he’d lost some of the glow that seemed to surround him. Now Taemin thought about it, he'd looked that way for a while now, even when he'd seen him before this whole divorce business started. He looked tired. So tired. Taemin knew that look, he'd seen it in the mirror for three straight years before he discovered how to make triple shot coffee and the right way to smile. He cleared his throat before eventually daring to say anything.

“How was China?”

“Cold,” Kris simply answered.

“What was your business there?”

“Visiting my brother,” Kris answered with a tone of finality.

Taemin left it at that and they sat for another minute in silence.

“I saw Joonmyun last week,” Taemin said. Kris seemed to flinch at Joonmyun’s name but continued to stare at his hands. “he has a new proposal.”

Kris leaned forward in his seat, leaning his arm on his knee and putting his chin in his palm.

“Due to his current familial situation, he has agreed to split the assists 75/25. He told me, and I quote, “tell him to take the god damn money or tell him to stop being so stupid”. Speaking on a personal level Kris, and I may be biased due to my relationship with Joonmyun, but I have to say, you should take the money. Joon is going through a lot right now, even without the divorce. I’m begging you, take the money.”

Kris was silent for a moment.

“Is everything okay?”

Taemin was stunned for a moment. "I’m not at liberty to say.”

"Don’t screw with me Taemin. We’re still married, whether I like it or not. His family is all I've had ever since Cha- besides, a family emergency should include you shouldn't it? Tell me what it is from your own point of view. Then Joon can’t blame you for telling me. How is the situation affecting you?”

Taemin paused, wondering how he ought to phrase it.

“My cousin Kyungsoo’s half sister's uncle’s nephew’s wife has cancer. Her husband died three years ago. She has two children under the age of five, and no other immediate family besides her husbands brother. He’s looking after her and the children. They’re currently living with him while she stays in the hospital. I learnt last night it’s significantly further along than they thought. She has till the new year if she’s lucky. Therefore, her brother-in-law will become her children's legal guardian, taking on financial responsibility. He’s currently in the middle of a divorce, so, from a legal perspective, it’s best he saves as much money as he can. He has, however, asked his lawyer to refrain from telling his soon to be ex-husband. Said ex-husband can never know that the situation, as relates to said brother-in-law. Do you understand Mr Wu?”

Taemin looked at Kris, who was sitting with a completely blank expression. The room was silent again, save for the noise of a subway car passing underneath.

“How are her kids?”

“Fine I think. They’re living with their uncle right now, he’s taken some time off work. Now, if we’re done discussing my family, can we get back to discussing Mr Kim’s new terms?”

“I - I need some time to think. I don’t know if… should I call Joonmyun? Does he… do you think he…”

“Would you like me to arrange a meeting between you and Mr Kim?”

Kris inhaled audibly. He looked at Taemin with the eyes of a drowning man. Taemin threw him a life belt.

“Go home Kris. I’ll sort this out. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Kris only nodded and stood up. He walked out of Taemin’s office before turning around and coming back in, remembering his coat. He tried to smile at Taemin, but only managed to grit his teeth before turning around again and walking out with his head low. Taemin watched from the window as Kris stood under a streetlamp with his head bowed, his shoulders shaking. He stood like that for a minute or two before hailing a cab and disappearing.

Taemin called Jongin. He reasoned that Jongin had a right to know about the situation, for the benefit of his client, but it might have had something to do with the fact that Jongin’s voice made Taemin feel less like he was suffocating.

 

\- - - - - - - - - - - -

_1 year, 6 months ago_

 

It was the middle of night and Taemin couldn't sleep. It was pouring outside, and Taemin had the day off the next day so it was perfectly justified that he sat in his underwear watching an old episode of Dream High. He’d been ignoring the flashing light on his answering machine. He knew what it was. He was getting them maybe twice a week, and he always found himself listening. So Taemin gave in, leaning over and playing the message.

 

message received on march 12th at 11:18 am:

 

Hello? Tae? are you there? I thought I saw you in the street today. It might’ve been you. I don’t know. I hope it was you. I have pictures on my desk, I remember you said not to make the office feel like home, but I don’t have anywhere else left. People keep asking who you are, if you’re my brother or a friend or a- or a boyfriend. I tell them I don’t know. I got drunk at a night out last week, I was crying on someones shoulder. I was talking about you, they said it was gonna be okay. No one asks questions if I stay here past midnight. I can’t go home, I keep thinking I’ll walk into the living room and see you, lying on the sofa watching those variety shows you like, drinking coffee or eating takeout. You’ve never even been to my apartment. I moved after you…. went away. Nothing feels right. I really hate you Tae. Why would you do that to me? You don’t get to decide what makes me happy when the only thing that makes me happy is you. Please Tae. I need you. I can’t live without you. I don’t even know if you get these messages. I think you’re still alive, Kris said he’d tell my sisters if anything happened to you. I don’t know where I am right now Tae. I might be outside your building. Sometimes I get on the wrong subway line, like I’m going to see you. But then I remember. I need you Tae. You’re thousands of miles away, and I don’t know what to do. Please come back.

 

message deleted. end of messages.

\- - - - - - - - - - - -

 

Taemin couldn't be bothered explaining the situation to Jongin over the phone so here they were, sitting in the damn coffee shop. It was raining, again, but it wasn't as busy as it normally was. There was still a quiet hum of voices around them. It had taken Taemin half a cup of coffee to explain exactly what he’d done, and another half for Jongin to reply.

“I mean,” Jongin eventually said, “you didn't really break any rules did you? It relates to you doesn't it, and you told it from your perspective. You can’t get in trouble for sharing some personal issues with the client. It’s not your fault the client knows some of the people involved. Right?”

Taemin just sighed into his cup. Jongin reached his hand across the table, tapping Taemin's wrist, a gesture reminiscent of college. When they were sitting in stuffy lecture halls listening to a man who looked like an extra from Jurassic Park drone on about the difference between adjournment and adjuration. Jongin would often get stressed with all the big words and threats of exams. So he'd tap on Taemin's wrist, meaning for him to turn his hand over so Jongin could interlock their fingers and get some comfort from his presence. Taemin did it almost without thinking, and tried desperately to kill the butterflies in his stomach.

“So do you want them to meet at your office or mine?” Taemin asked.

“Mine might be better. Make Joon feel more at ease and all.”

Taemin hummed in agreement. The two sat in silence as they finished their coffee, neither saying anything about their entwined hands, or how they remained together when they stood up, and together still as they walked out into the street.

“Come on, I’ll walk you to the subway.”

 

Taemin shook his umbrella off as he and Kris stepped into the building. The elevator was once again full, but Taemin was thankful of Kris’s height when he hid behind him to avoid physical contact with his fellow passengers. They stepped out and Taemin once again noticed Kris’s slightly trembling shoulders. He reached up and placed his hand on his arm, and he stilled momentarily.

The lobby was once again busy. Taemin stepped forward to the desk as Kris looked around.

“I’m here for a meeting with Mr Kim?”

The receptionist didn't seem to need specification for which Kim as they smiled at Taemin.

“One moment Mr Lee,” they said with a smile. “Ah yes, he’ll be along in a minute. Please feel free to sit down.”

Taemin turned and made his way over to Kris. He was about to ask if he wanted to sit when-

“Taemin-ah!” Jongin was once again tumbling down the hall, throwing an arm around Taemin’s shoulders and wrapping him in a one armed hug. “And Kris! It’s been too long hyung, noona is very angry at you, you’re not answering her calls.”

Jongin pouted and Kris made an expression that could possibly be interpreted as a smile.

“Tell her I’m sorry Jongin, I’ve been busy. How is she, and Rahee?”

“Ah, where do I start,” Jongin said, turning down the hall, his arm settling back around Taemin’s waist. “she’s in her second year of primary school now, she’s so smart, reading so well already. She’s tall as well, nearly up to my waist. She’s getting so grown up, just last week-“

Taemin zoned out and looked around him again. Kris had fallen into step with them and appeared to be actually listening. He didn't look so stressed, and Taemin wondered if Jongin intended to distract Kris in the first place. Again, various people appeared to be taking coffee breaks. A couple of them looked up at Kris, a tall guy with big ears that Taemin sort of recognised and a pretty girl who scarcely reached the man's shoulders. The guy with the ears looked like he was going to say something but swallowed hard and turned his head as they walked past, blocking his face from view. And again, people were gesturing to Taemin. Taemin couldn't help but hope it was because Jongin had mentioned him, even if it was just in passing. He’d managed to convince himself he would be glad if Jongin forgot him, but Taemin couldn't deny the sick feeling in his chest when he thought of Jongin moving on.

They eventually reached the office. The door was closed and Kris paused outside. He seemed to be mentally readying himself, and took a deep breath as Jongin opened the door. Taemin placed one hand on Kris’s back as he guided him in, half in a gesture of comfort, half making sure he didn't run away.

Joonmyun was sitting in one of the seats across from the desk. He stood up as the door opened. It may have been Taemin's imagination, but Kris seemed to flinch when joonmyun stood up. The four men stood still, the air having grown thick between them.

“Kris,” Joonmyun said, almost silently. His eyes were unreadable as he looked at the man in front of him. He was paler than when Taemin had last seen him, dark circles and bags under his eyes. He was significantly thinner as well, although that may have been the way he was holding himself. He seemed to shrink in Kris’s presence.

“Joonmyun,” Kris’s voice sounded as though he was in a lions den and was too scared to make any sudden movements. But he looked vaguely concerned, obviously having noticed the way Joonmyun’s appearance had changed, more so than he’d noticed his own.

Jongin coughed, breaking the stillness. “Tae,” he said, gesturing to the desk where another seat had been placed next to Jongin’s. He sat down, and the others followed. It was odd, two facing two, but not unwelcome. Taemin felt reassured by Jongin’s presence, and the feeling of their legs brushing together under the desk.

Kris was staring straight ahead with his back straight, whereas Joonmyun sat almost curled in on himself, staring at his clasped hands in his lap. Their positions appeared to be the opposite to the others. Taemin and Jongin looked at each other, silently arguing about who had to be the first to speak.

“How’s Soojung?” Taemin eventually said, as though the other two weren't there.

Joonmyun grimaced before answering.

“Not good Minnie,” he said. “she’s getting worse by the day. Her hair’s all fallen out, the kids are terrified. The doctors say she has a month if she’s lucky. I don’t know how I’ll tell the kids, so near to christmas as well. That reminds me, i don’t suppose you’d be able to watch them next Saturday? I’ve got business to catch up on, and I really ought to get them presents. I’ll be out all day, I’d leave them with Soojung but it’s not good for them to be in the ward too much. Just for the afternoon if that’s okay.”

“Yeah that’s fine. I’ve not seen them since the twin’s christening, it’ll be nice to see them. I was wondering if it’d be okay if I visited Soojung? I’ve not seen her, and I don’t know if it’s my place….”

“Of course it is,” Joon interjected “family’s family, no matter how far apart. I’m sure she’d be glad to see you.”

“Yeah, I was talking about this to Auntie the other day-“

Taemin was suddenly aware that this wasn't a casual family catch up.

“I’d be happy to look after the kids Joon, why don’t we talk later?”

Joonmyun nodded, smiling before staring back down at his hands. Taemin was aware that neither Kris nor Joonmyun were wearing their wedding rings, but Kris still wore the black band around his pinkie.

“As heartwarming as this all is Tae, I’m afraid we’ve got some business to attend to. Mr Wu, you are now fully aware of Mr Kim’s financial and familial circumstances?”

“I am” Kris replied, his voice thick.

“So you are aware of his proposal to split the assets 75/25?”

“I am.”

“Can we go over your reasoning behind your refusal to accept these terms?”

“I don’t want it.” Kris simply replied. “all the organising of finances were done by Joonmyun. Particularly in his situation, he ought to take all the money.”

“Jongin,” Joonmyun interrupted “could you tell Mr Wu that he’s being an idiot.”

Jongin paused for a moment. “Mr Wu, you’re being an idiot.”

Kris turned to Taemin, “Taemin, could you tell Mr Kim that he’s a bigger idiot for not taking the money?”

“Mr Kim, you’re a bigger idiot” Taemin said, raising an eyebrow at Jongin.

“Jongin, tell Mr Wu it’s absolutely ridiculous to think I would ever accept something that isn't mine.”

“Taemin, tell Mr Kim that he’s the one who needs the money, and he doesn't understand the full picture anyway so just take the money.”

“Jongin, tell Mr Wu that if we wanted me to take the money, he could've just explained to me why he was divorcing me in the first place.”

“Taemin, tell Mr Kim that he knows fine well why I’m divorcing him and he’s just being a stubborn bastard.”

“Jongin, tell Mr Wu that that isn't a good enough reason, and there must be more to it because no one in their right mind divorces somebody ‘for their own good’ so what else have I done wrong?”

“Taemin, tell Mr Kim that he’s not done anything wrong, he’d be better off without me, with someone who can give him what he wants and can make him happy.”

“Tell Mr Wu that he makes me perfectly content as it is.”

“Tell Mr Kim that he deserves more than ‘content’ and that’s why I’m letting him go.”

“Mr Wu doesn't get to decide what makes me happy, only I do.”

“Mr Kim knows he’s always wanted children so he should just forget about me, and get a shot at the life he deserves.”

“My sister is dying, my husband is leaving me, and I’m about to be given two toddlers so please, for the love of god, can you stop being so selfish?”

Kris finally turned to look at Joonmyun. He was crying, tears streaming down his face and his lips raw from biting them. Kris froze like a deer in the headlights before leaning forward and looking Joonmyun in the eye. He began to outright sob, his shoulders shaking as he buried his head in his hands as Kris awkwardly patted his back.

Taemin and Jongin looked at each other before getting up and going to get coffee.

 

The two men didn't seem to notice their lawyers leaving the room and shutting the door behind them. They silently made their way to the closest coffee machine down the hall. There were a couple people leaning against the wall next to it and the big eared guy was talking to an obnoxiously short man with a mouth like a cat. As Jongin and Taemin got their coffee, Taemin elbowed Jongin in the side.

“Who’s the guy with the ears?”

“Who? Chanyeol?” Jongin replied. “Ask him yourself.”

Jongin grinned and turned around, waving to Chanyeol who said goodbye to the cat guy and made his way over.

“Jongin-ah! This must be Taemin, nice to meet you.”

Taemin shook his hand before turning to Jongin.

“how come everybody knows who i am?” he asked, his voice slightly accusatory, slightly amused.

Jongin appeared to blush as he reached up to rub the back of his neck.

“W-well, you see, uh…”

“He never shuts up about you,” Chanyeol interjected “when he first started it was all, Taemin this, and Taemin that. Then he got all mopey and drunk a lot and he’d cry about you, and now he’s all back to talking about you. Never shuts up this one.”

Jongin’s face was the colour of a tomato.

“We were all like, who’s this Taemin guy?” Chanyeol continued “so Baekhyun snuck into his office and stole the picture off his desk. To be fair, you’re a lot more handsome in real life Taemin-ssi. But I already knew that.”

“I was wondering about that, do I know you from somewhere?”

“I knew Jongin’s sister, Yifan and I went to high school and then college with her. You were in high school, and you were busy, you wouldn't remember me. I used to hang about Jongin’s house and make Jungah feed me, and I was best man at Yifan’s wedding, so I’d seen you then too.”

“Seriously? He never mentioned you…”

“He wouldn't have,” Chanyeol said, with a somewhat sad smile “once he got married, we didn't really see each other a lot. I was working a lot and so was he, and all his free time he spent with Joon. Not that I’m bitter or anything,” he hastened to add, “I was happy he was happy. I still am. Happy.”

“You better sort this out Jongin,” Chanyeol said, suddenly serious, his voice quieter as he fiddled with a ring he was wearing on his little finger. “Yifan’d set himself on fire to keep the people he loves warm. So if he thinks this is the right thing to do, not much will change his mind. He's done it before, he'll do it again.”

“I’m trying Yeol,” Jongin said “we better go, I’ll talk to you later okay?”

Chanyeol smiled, and Jongin squeezed his arm. Taemin got the sense there was more to Chanyeol that he would ever know and made a point to interrogate Jongin later.

“Tell Yifan I said hello, would you?

“I'll tell him Chanyeol.”

“You’ve got to remember Ninnie, he’s never where he is. He’s only ever in his head.”

Chanyeol smiled again before knocking back his coffee and heading down the hall, his hands in his pockets and his shoulders hunched. Taemin watched him go, feeling sad for no apparent reason.

“C’mon tae, we better check to see if they’ve killed each other.”

 

\- - - - - - - - - - - -

_5 years, 6 months ago_

“Where are you going?”

 

Taemin was standing in front of the mirror, nervously running his hands through his hair. Jongin had been asleep on the couch all day, having only just woken up. It was evening now, and it had started to rain.

 

“Out,” Taemin simply answered, not turning to look at Jongin.

 

“Where?” Jongin asked, making eye contact with Taemin in the mirror.

 

“Just to the cinema.”

 

“With who?”

 

“No one you know,” Taemin simply answered, turning to grab his coat from the back of his chair. He tried not to look at Jongin, who looked oddly helpless in the darkness of the room.

 

“When will you be back? I can go…”

 

“No, stay,” Taemin said, slightly quicker than he’d have liked it to be, “I’ll be back by ten, we can order in. Go back to sleep.”

 

“Okay,” Jongin said, his voice small. He was wrapped in a blanket, his bare chest showing, hair tousled and bleary eyed.

 

“Here,” Taemin said, throwing a jumper at Jongin, “you’ll catch a cold walking around like that.”

 

Jongin nodded as he tugged it on. Despite Jongin being significantly taller than Taemin now, it was still big on him.

 

“Come back soon?”

 

Taemin only nodded as he walked into the hall and tugged his shoes on.

 

“Get some sleep love,” he said, knowing Jongin hadn't heard him as he closed the door.

 

Every time one of them had a date, the other found themselves feeling helpless. Neither of them had had a relationship lasting more than a month, either being broken up with because not enough time was spent with the other, or breaking up with them because it just didn't feel right.

 

And if Jongin lay on the sofa holding the jumper to his chest, not able to see the TV because his eyes were watery, well, Taemin never needed to know that.

 

And if Taemin sat in the cinema, not paying attention because every time he turned to mention something to Jongin he wasn't there, and if he felt like something was missing, and if he said goodbye to his date without asking for a second one, well, Jongin never needed to know that.

 

And Taemin didn't need to know Jongin kept the jumper, and Jongin didn't need to know how Taemin’s heart skipped a beat when he got home and saw Jongin curled up half asleep, clutching his jumper to his chest.

 

And if they both felt relieved when they were back so sitting next to one another on the couch, watching TV and eating ramyun, and falling asleep in a mess of tangled limbs, well, neither of them needed to know.

\- - - - - - - - - - - -

 

Joonmyun was in no place to reason with when Taemin and Jongin got back. Cajoling, consoling, and comforting brought them no results, Joonmyun sniffling and Kris gnawing his lip. Kris was silent, rubbing Joonmyun’s back but looking extraordinarily uncomfortable. Eventually Joonmyun excused himself, mumbling something about fresh air. Taemin and Jongin sat in semi-awkward silence across from Kris, Jongin clearing his throat before speaking.

“Chanyeol says hello.”

Kris’s head snapped up, his eyes wide.

“Chanyeol’s here?" he began to ramble, voice a gasp, "as in here? Now? In this building? Down the hall? I haven’t spoken to him since college, I didn't know if...if he still was …. is he here?”

“Je’s been working here since graduation. He says hello, Kris, and I think you should leave it at that.”

Kris’s eyes dropped to his lap and he was quiet for a moment.

“Is he…has he…how is he?”

“He’s been better.” Jongin didn't seem to want to say any more on the subject, despite the burning look behind his eyes.

They were silent until Joonmyun came back in, clutching a bottle of water and looking slightly less pale.

“Would you like some more time to think?”

The two men nodded before standing. They said their goodbyes, and Taemin remained seated, not feeling awake enough to trust himself to stand. They both sat for a moment, before getting up and going to get coffee.

 

\- - - - - - - - - - - - -

_6 months ago_

 

It was the end of July and it hadn’t rained for two months. The air was thick with the anticipation of thunder, and Taemin was lying on the floor in his boxers staring at the ceiling fan. It was maybe eleven o’clock and the sun was only just setting, long summer days giving in to humid nights. Taemin didn't know how long he’d been lying there for, but he knew the answering machine had been blinking for at least half an hour. After mentally psyching himself up, he pulled himself onto the sofa, leant over and pushed the button, leaning his head back and closing his eyes.

 

 

 

message received today at 10:28 pm

 

“Tae? I’m sorry, I keep calling you. I think, I think i need to stop. I’m a mess, a fucking mess. None of this is gonna make you come back. I’ve tried to find you at the bottom of bottles, and in cigarette ash, and tried to feel your soul through other boys mouths, and I listen for your voice in every fucking love song. It’s you, it’s been you since I saw you ten years ago in the corridor and I had to lean against a wall and remember how to breathe because you were so beautiful. It’s you at two am and at six pm, it’s you when I sleep, when I eat, when I lie awake at night thinking of the feeling of your hand in mine. You're everything, you are everywhere. It’s you, it’s always been you. Where are you? I’m waiting for you to come home. Screw you for always being in my mind, and my dreams, screw you for being everything I see, screw you for leaving because I bet you never even think of me. And fuck you for making me love you you fucking asshole. I love you, I love you, I love-"

 

message saved. end of messages

 

 

Taemin stood up, walking over to the window and looking out. It almost dark now, the city lights blinking in his eyes. He wasn't sure if he was crying or not. As he stared out, he heard thunder rumble out over the city. The sky split open and his eyes were blinded by a flash of lightning. It didn't rain. It poured.

\- - - - - - - - - - - -

 

“What’s the deal with Chanyeol then?” Taemin eventually asked, once they’d ordered and found a seat.

“It’s complicated,” Jongin sighed “Chanyeol and Kris went to high school with Jungah, and they went to the same college. Kris met Joonmyun the summer after they graduated high school, got married barely a year later. Do you actually know how they met?”

Taemin shook his head, surprised that he’d never thought to ask.

“Chanyeol’s sister, Yoora, knew Soojung, childhood friends or something. Joonmyun went to Yoora’s wedding cause his brother was one of the witnesses, and met Kris there. If it wasn't for Chanyeol, they wouldn't have met.”

“So does Chanyeol know Soojung?”

“I guess,” Jongin mused “I’ve never thought about it. I told him Joon’s sister was sick, he said he already knew. I suppose Yoora must’ve told him.”

“But I don’t understand why Kris never mentioned him.”

Jongin sighed again. “They’ve known each other since primary school, since Kris moved here. They were inseparable the whole time I knew them, there was literally never a time I saw them apart. Never. They used to walk me home from dance practice, they’d buy me ice cream. When Kris met Joon, they drifted. I never really knew what happened till I started speaking to Chanyeol again.”

Jongin paused, sipping his coffee. He looked pained.

“Chanyeol and I used to get drunk together, whenever Kibum, you know Kibum, pretty Kibum? Anyway, when he was away we’d get completely wasted. He’d cry about Kris and i’d cry about…. anyway, from what I remember, they were sort of a thing? Kind of? But nothing ever came of it, Jungah says neither one ever confessed. They were sure the other didn't feel the same way, so Kris thought Chanyeol would be happier if he stopped pining after him and left Chanyeol alone. So he met Joonmyun, they started dating, and then they got married. That’s all I know. Joon sort of helped Kris get over Chanyeol, whether or not Joonmyun knew it. Kris was hurting for a long time, Joon got him through it. Sort of.”

“Yifan’d set himself on fire to keep the people he loves warm.” Taemin said mostly to himself.

Jongin hummed in agreement and neither spoke as they finished their drinks surrounded by noise.

“What do you think they’re going to do now?” Jongin asked.

“I don’t…I don't know. Maybe put everything on hold until Soojung gets better.”

“And if she doesn’t?”

“I don’t know Jongin. God, do you ever stop asking questions?”

“Sorry Tae.” Jongin stared into his mug as he tilted it, watching the dregs spin around the bottom.

“I don’t know Jongin,” Taemin said again, softer, “I don't know. Kris’ll probably stay with Joonmyun, for the kids sake at least.”

“Even if he doesn't love Joonmyun anymore, he’ll stay with Joonmyun so he’s happy. Kris ought to know it’s okay to be happy yourself sometimes.”

Taemin sighed, “It’s better to hurt yourself than to hurt others I guess.”

Jongin just stared at Taemin, before standing up.

“I’ll walk you to the subway.”

 

Taemin waited a few days before calling Kris. he sounded tired when he told him they’d put the divorce on hold, given the current situation. Taemin called Joonmyun afterwards, and somehow was now at Joonmyun’s apartment with two kids clinging to his neck. They’d obviously been prepped by Joonmyun as they ran screaming to their “uncle Taemin”. Joon came rushing out after them, his suit half on, rushing out a thank you to Taemin.

“Money’s on the counter, take them out for ice cream or something. Bring them over around five, I’ll be done by seven. Call me if there’s any problems.”

 

And at that Joonmyun left, leaving Taemin with two small children. Jihoon sat on Taemin’s foot and wrapped his arms around his leg, his fringe flopping into his eyes. Jimin ran circles around them giggling like a maniac.

“Uncle Taemin, how old are you?”

“How tall are you?”

“What’s your job?”

“Are you a prince?”

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

“Is she pretty?”

“Or is your girlfriend a boy?”

“Is he pretty?”

“When can we visit mum?”

“Can we get ice cream?”

“Older than you, 179 centimetres, I'm a lawyer, no, no, soon, and if you’re good.”

Through much convincing and negotiating, Taemin sat the two of the down in front of an episode of Pororo. Taemin snuck into the kitchen and called Jongin, who picked up after the second ring.

“Tae? Everything alright?”

“Jongin, you have to help me out. I’m too tired to deal with this. What are you doing right now?”

“Nothing important. I’ll be over soon.”

“You’re a lifesaver Nin. I’ll buy you chicken.”

Jongin laughed as he hung up and Taemin sat down on the couch. The kids cuddled into him, not minding that Taemin fell asleep, just happy to be near someone somewhat familiar.

That was how Jongin found them, letting himself in with the spare key Joon insisted on giving to him when this whole business started and that Jongin had yet to return. Jimin was cuddled into Taemin’s arm and Jihoon was lying across Taemin’s stomach. They didn't seem to remember Taemin was asleep, and bounced up when Jongin came in.

“Who are you?”

“Are you a prince?”

“Are you uncle Taemin’s girlfriend?”

“You’re not as pretty as I thought you’d be.”

“Can we get ice cream?”

Jongin just laughed, leaning over to shake Taemin awake. Taemin groaned, batting Jongin’s hands away.

“Uncle Taemin, is this your girlfriend?”

“No,” Taemin said, laughing “this is your uncle Jongin. He’s gonna help me look after you today, so be nice and we’ll get you ice cream.”

Jimin laughed, Jihoon not noticing as he was too busy clinging to Jongin’s knees and refusing to let go. Taemin made his way to the kitchen to make them something to eat, ignoring the shrieks and thuds coming from the room next door. He brought the food through to find Jimin and Jihoon sitting on Jongin’s back as he crawled along the floor. He decided it would be better to not ask and just give them food. The kids ate and Jongin and Taemin sat, not speaking, just watching them.

“Do you want to go to the park after this?”

The kids nodded, not stopping eating but not wanting to talk with their mouths full. Soojung had taught them well.

When they were done, Jongin bundled them up in puffy jackets and scarves, not being able to resist taking a picture of the penguins that had replaced Joonmyun’s niece and nephew. As soon as they left their building, Jihoon started whining so Jongin picked him up and put him on his shoulders. Jimin then started complaining about how “Jongin oppa likes Jihoonie better than me!” so Taemin and Jongin held her hands and swung her along the street. Needless to say, the two men were glad when they got to the park and the two kids ran off to the playground, giving them a chance to collapse on a bench.

“Are they gonna make us get them ice cream now?” Jongin asked

“Yup.”

“Are we gonna let them?”

“Are they gonna give us a choice? Besides, we should head to the hospital after this so we might as well get them something nice. Although it's cold, so maybe hot chocolate”

Jongin hummed in reply, just watching the children play for a bit.

“What if people think we’re their dads?”

“Is there anything wrong with that?”

And if Jongin felt a swoop in his stomach when Taemin fastened up the kids coats, wrapping them up and letting them cuddle into his jacket, Taemin never needed to know that.

And if Taemin felt like his heart was going to burst at the sight of Jongin singing nursery rhymes with Jimin, and holding Jihoon on his shoulders, Jongin never needed to know that.

 

\- - - - - - - - - - - -

_six years, one month ago_

 

  

It was raining. It was half snow, half water, shattering against the windows of Taemin’s apartment. He’d just gotten home and was curled up on the sofa, having given up on studying in favour of watching some trashy game show with celebrities he’d never heard of. He was just starting to understand what was going on, when his phone rang. It was Jongin.

 

“Tae!” Jongin sounded out of breath, and slightly distracted.

 

“Is everything okay Nin?”

 

“Yeah, well, no, I don’t know. My sisters just gone into labour, we just got to the hospital, and my parents are in Europe and her husband's in Japan, and it’s way too early, and I don’t know what to do.”

 

“Remember to breathe Jongin, I’m on my way, stay calm okay?”

 

“Okay. Get here soon please?”

 

“Fast as I can darling.”

 

 

 

The subway ride seemed to take longer than it usually did. Taemin had only thrown a hoodie over his vest and jeans, and was thoroughly soaked when he got to the hospital. He asked at the desk and was directed down a dozen different corridors to the maternity ward.

 

The lift journey took ages too, and Taemin was squeezed at the back along with six other people. A little girl was being taken down to surgery, and Taemin smiled at her. She seemed to try to smile back but was wheeled out before Taemin was sure.

 

After what felt like an age, Taemin was rushing down a corridor, dripping water onto the linoleum. He staggered into the maternity ward, and was again directed down the hall. He could hear the complaints from where he stood.

 

“…kill him, if he even touches me again I’ll chop his hands off. You’re lucky Jongin, you and Taemin won’t ever have to-“

 

Taemin stood in the doorway, awkwardly knocking on the door. Jongin looked up from where his sister was squeezing his hand so hard that his fingertips had turned purple. He stood up, walking over to Taemin with a look of immense pain.

 

“Tae! You’re soaked, did you swim here?”

 

“You’re hilarious Nin,” Taemin said with a grimace.

 

“I know I am Tae, that’s why you love me,” Jongin replied, unzipping his own hoodie and leaning in to pull Taemin's off from over his head. He clicked his tongue at Taemin’s vest as he ran his hands through Taemin's wet hair. “you need to wear more layers dummy, you’ll catch a cold.”

 

Taemin flushed as Jongin dressed him, painfully aware of his sister watching them from the bed, smirking. She looked like she was about to say something when a doctor came in.

 

"Good evening Mrs Choi, how are you feeling?”

 

“Like I’m giving birth. Jongin, go get something to eat, we’re gonna be a while.”

 

Jongin was in no mood to contradict his sister, particularly in her state, so he and Taemin shuffled off to the cafeteria, bringing back cups of watery coffee that burnt their tongues. Nurses shuffled in and out but Taemin and Jongin sat together, leaning on each other as Taemin drifted in and out of sleep. He was woken by Jongin shaking him, and the sight of half a dozen doctors huddled round the bed.

 

“…not nearly dilated enough…serious blood loss….surgery….emergency caesarean-”

 

Taemin squeezed Jongin’s hand as they wheeled his sister's bed out the door. She smiled over at them, giving Jongin a weak thumbs up.

 

“Cheer up Ninnie, it could be worse. It could be twins.”

 

Jongin tried to smile but found his face frozen. He felt like everything was happening in slow motion as Taemin helped him stand and they made their way to the surgery waiting room. They sat, Jongin spread out with his legs across the chairs and laying his head in Taemin’s lap, not saying anything as Taemin ran his hands through Jongin’s hair.

 

Three years later Jongin would sit in the same waiting room, alone, waiting to be told whether or not his best friend had succeeded in killing himself. He is cold. And he is afraid. But today, as he waited for new life to be brought into the world, in the warm glow of the waiting room, he was glad to be with Taemin, and he was glad to be loved.

\- - - - - - - - - - - -

 

Jongin did manage to convince the two children that it was too cold for ice cream, and hot chocolate was a much better idea. Of course, the closest place to the park for hot chocolate was their coffee shop. The baristas, who had come to know them, gave them odd looks when the two men came in with two small children, fussing and flitting over the them like the doting uncles they had become in the space of five hours.

Taemin had to admit it was an odd but not unwelcome feeling, being in the cafe with Jongin and the children. He wished he could save this minute in a bubble, Jongin and Jihoon with matching whipped cream moustaches, Jimin laughing her tiny head off at the two of them. They looked happy, happier than they would be for a long time. And if he wanted to save how Jongin looked at this moment, happy and peaceful, that was another issue.

They finished all too quickly, and soon were walking into the hospital. Jimin knew how to get to her mother's room, which broke Taemin’s heart a little bit. They were quiet on the lift up, Jihoon giving up on walking and cuddling into Jongin's neck with his thumb in his mouth. Soojung was asleep when they arrived and the children were careful not to make any noise. They both sat in the chair next to her bed and just watched her, as though she’d stay there, so long as they didn't look away. Taemin sat next to them, while Jongin went off to look for a coffee machine. Soojung stirred, opening her eyes and smiling at the sight of her children.

Her head was wrapped in a scarf, her face skeletal. Soojung’s face was strained as she smiled and lifted her arms, letting her children wrap themselves around her thin body. She kissed their heads and held them close, not trusting herself to speak. She was still beautiful, in the way that a flower in October is, in the way that it breaks your heart a little. She looked up then, only then noticing the man standing rather awkwardly at the bottom of the bed.

“Taeminnie!”

Taemin only smiled as he walked over to her, leaning in, her lips chapped on his cheek.

“Nice to see you Soojung. It’s been too long.”

“You’ve gotten so old Minnie, so tall. Were the children good?”

“Define good,” he replied, attempting to keep the mood light.

Soojung laughed, leaning her head back against the pillow.

“Jongin was here, I don’t know where he’s disappeared to. Do you mind if I go look for him?”

Soojung hummed, her eyes smiling but her face too tired to move. She closed her eyes and pulled the children closer to her, and the three of them sat in silence like that.

Taemin shut the door quietly on his way out, heading down the hall to find Jongin. It took him at least ten minutes to find him, sitting in an empty waiting area, staring dead ahead. Taemin sat down next to him, speaking without waiting for Jongin to say anything, knowing if he didn't say this now he never would.

“That night, the night of the accident, I wasn't thinking. I was drunk, I was stressed, I was out of my mind. I thought I would feel better, be better off, being dead. I felt like such a failure, an annoyance, a deadweight. I couldn't do it anymore. I thought it would be easier on my parents. My brother, my cousins, my teachers, my friends. On you.”

Jongin opened his mouth in desperation but Taemin kept talking.

“I’d gotten it into my head that I wasn't good enough for you. That I was annoying, a burden, that I was holding you back. That I wasn't... enough. I’d convinced myself you would be happier if I was out of the picture. If you were sad when I died, you’d get over it, and then be happier. When it was all over, and you’d moved on, you’d be thankful I’d died, that I’d set you free from me.”

“How could you ever think that?” Jongin was white, his mouth hanging slightly open. “How could you ever think I would be happy with you dead? You were the only good thing in my life for so long. When I found you that night… I thought I would die. You can’t ever know how it felt, sitting there with you lying on an operating table, doctors trying to save your life even though I knew you didn't want them to. How horrible it felt to think you were so sad for so long and I never even noticed. And it was selfish, but I was angry, angry that you never even thought how much it would hurt me if you died. I thought you obviously didn't care about me, because if you did you would never leave me like this. So when you walked out a year later, I knew you didn't care about me. Because you left.”

“Of course I care about you jongin. More than anything.”

“Then why did you leave?” Jongin was facing Taemin, his face flushed, his eyes blazing and lips red. Taemin was momentarily distracted, thinking about how beautiful Jongin looked right now, and how it would feel to kiss him. But that didn't matter right now.

“I left for one of the reasons I tried to kill myself. To make you happy, to stop hurting you.”

“Taemin, why can’t you understand? The only thing that could ever make me happy was you. When you left, I hated myself. I should've listened more, been there more, been funnier, smarter, better looking, more responsible, been better. You left, and you broke my heart. How could that ever make me happy? I can’t live without you Taemin.”

“But you did. You managed for so long, and you would be managing right now if it weren't for Kris and Joonmyun.”

“I didn't manage though. I wasn't living. I was drunk every night, ended up in hospital a dozen times getting my stomach pumped. For months after you left, I would get the subway to your apartment and stand outside the station, wishing I would see you. But you didn't care, did you? I was the only one who worried about you, when you chugged back bottle after bottle at parties and people were standing around you cheering, but all I was doing was thinking about how empty you had to have been to let it fill you up. I left you messages, crying. At work, when we’d go out for drinks, I’d get wasted and I’d cry about you. I carried three different pictures of you in my wallet, when I first moved into that office I covered my wall in photos, most of them with you in them somewhere. One night I lost it, I smashed most of them, sliced my hands up and took a lot of overtime to stop myself from getting fired. That’s how everyone knows you. Because they know you broke my fucking heart.”

Jongin had stood up halfway through his speech and was standing staring at Taemin. Taemin was numb. How could Jongin say that? That Taemin didn't care? Didn't he know he did all this because he cared too much?

“Forget it. I can’t do this anymore. You’re as bad as Kris, you break someones heart for 'their own good'. At least Kris tried to get a hold of his life, moved on, got married, while you just sit about feeling sorry for yourself and looking pretty. Can’t you see the only time i have ever been happy is with you? You can’t just fucking leave every time you think I’m not happy. You need to look after yourself. And it’s not better to hurt yourself than hurt others. Because when you hurt yourself, it hurts me. Not that you care if I’m hurting anyway. You only ever cared about yourself in the long run. You couldn't even see how much I loved you if I stood in front of you and screamed it in your face. Just forget it.”

And at that, Jongin walked away, leaving Taemin sitting there and wondering if he could stagger into A&E and they’d give him something to stop the feeling that he’d just been shot.

 

\- - - - - - - - - - - -

_nine months ago_

 

it was late. Taemin had just been out with some people from work, but he was tired, and he wasn't drinking as much these days so Naeun and Seulgi had sent him home unaccompanied. It was drizzling, the pavements slick and shining with reflections from the street around them. He was walking along a nightclub lined street towards the subway station, a cigarette hanging from his lips. Then he saw him.

 

Jongin was stumbling out of a bar, maybe ten feet ahead of him. He was being supported by two guys, one who looked far too fashionable to be there who was also swaying slightly, and a muscly but short guy wearing a vest despite the freezing weather. Jongin looked messed up, his hair ruffled and shirt half undone. his face was flushed and his eyes watery, swaying from side to side like a pendulum.

 

Maybe it wasn't Jongin. Maybe it was somebody else who just looked like him. Someone else who spoke the same way Jongin did. And styled their hair the same way. And wore the same ring on their left middle finger that Taemin got Jongin for his eighteenth. And had the same bracelet that Taemin got Jongin for his twenty first. Maybe it wasn't Jongin.

 

So Taemin kept going, keeping his head low as he walked past. But he must've done something wrong because Jongin looked up, eyes fuzzy, and grabbed Taemin’s arm tightly and pulled him closer to him.

 

“Taemin? Tae?”

 

Taemin didn't turn his head but looked at Jongin out of the side of his eye. Jongin who’s lips were still the same shade of red, who still pouted when he was confused, and who’s voice still sounded the same when he said Taemin’s name.

 

“I’m sorry. I think you’ve got me confused with someone else.”

 

“Oh. Oh, I’m sorry. Sorry.”

 

Taemin made eye contact with the shorter guy who was very obviously sober, and very obviously recognised Taemin. He nodded at Taemin who nodded back. From the way the guy was holding the other man's hand behind Jongin’s back, Taemin felt he understood the situation more than he’d ever tell Jongin.

 

“That’s okay. I hope you find your Taemin.”

 

“I hope so too. I don’t know where he is.”

 

Jongin then turned to the pretty boy and stuck his bottom lip out, eyes watery. Jongin's face crumpled as he leant his head into his shoulder.

 

“I don’t know where he is hyung. He’s lost. He's cold, and he's bleeding, and I don’t know where he is.”

 

Taemin couldn’t take it anymore. He gave one last look at the sober guy, before turning and heading down the street, ignoring the sounds of Jongin sobbing and focusing on walking in a straight line. And if he sat in the empty subway carriage and cried so hard that he staggered out onto a random platform and vomited onto the tracks, no one ever needed to know.

\- - - - - - - - - - - -

 

Soojung died a week later. Taemin got the call from Joonmyun, late at night. He was calm, his voice steady. He’d asked him to come to the hospital to take care of the kids while he dealt with the aftermath. Taemin had helped out with the kids the week before, picking them up from school, making them dinner, taking them to visit Soojung, and generally keeping them distracted from what was going on. And if he was keeping himself distracted from the fact he’d not seen or spoken to Jongin all week, that was another issue.

When Taemin got to the hospital, he stood outside the entrance. He let himself cry a little bit, before gathering himself, and putting on a brave face, if not for himself but for Jimin and Jihoon. The elevator was empty and he found himself thinking of the little girl he’d seen the day Rahee was born. He hoped she was okay.

Joonmyun was sitting with the kids cuddling into him. He was staring at the wall but looked up when Taemin got there. He smiled slightly, untangling himself and standing up, giving Taemin a bear hug.

“Do you mind sitting with them?” Joon whispered, “I need to go speak to the doctors but I don’t want to leave them.”

“Go,” Taemin said, “I’ll stay with them.”

“Thanks Min. Kyungsoo’ll be here soon to take them back to my apartment, they need some sleep.”

Taemin nodded, sitting down and pulling Jihoon into his lap. His downy hair tickled Taemin’s nose and his tears made a damp patch on Taemin’s collar. Jimin burrowed her head into Taemin’s elbow and wrapped her arms around his waist. Taemin stroked her head absentmindedly, making soothing noises into Jihoon’s hair.

“Is mummy in heaven?” Jimin asked, so quietly it took Taemin a moment to realise she'd spoken.

“Yeah Jiminnie, with your dad. They’re looking out for you, up there now, making sure you’re okay.”

“But I can’t see them uncle Tae. How do I know they’re looking out for me if I can’t see them?”

“Sometimes you can’t see the people you love,” Taemin said “but that doesn't mean they love you any less, and that doesn't mean they’re gone. Your mum'll always be there for you. So long as you love her, she’ll be with you.”

“Then I need to make sure I love her and daddy for ever and ever.”

Taemin couldn't think of a reply, so just held her tighter. The three of them fell asleep like that, in their grief, in a hospital waiting room.

 

The funeral was the next week. Tradition says the eldest son of the deceased must walk with a cane to the funeral, to signify his need of support in a time of grieving. Given that the eldest son was three years old however, this particular tradition was bypassed.

Soojung’s sister Sooyoung had flown out from California. She’d barely managed to get time off work, she’d be flying out again that night. Taemin had gone to help get the children ready, dressing them in black clothes and trying not to cry. He rode in one of the funeral cars with the children, out of the city to the church, and onwards to the graveyard.

The funeral was traditional, mass said by a nameless priest. Most of Taemin’s relatives had shown up, so it wasn't as quiet as he thought it would be. He was comforted by the knowledge that Jimin and Jihoon would never be fully alone, surrounded by aunties and uncles and God knows who else.

The ride to the graveyard was silent, save for sniffles coming from Jimin. Each child was holding one of Taemin’s hands, and they stayed like that when they got out. Taemin wished he could just take them and leave, or wrap them in bubble wrap, or do something, anything, to protect them from all the shit they'd have to go through. They’d both experienced more sadness in five years than they deserved to go through in a lifetime.

It had started to rain while they were in the church, so Taemin huddled them under a massive black umbrella. Joonmyun was standing with Kris, his hand awkwardly on his shoulder. Taemin handed the kids off to a cousin (Amber?) as he walked over to the hearse. Joon’s uncle had hurt his back carrying the coffin out from the church so Taemin had been 'volunteered' to take his place. He stood at the back, next to his cousin Sehun. Joon stood at the front, next to Luhan, who’d flown out with his friend Minseok for the funeral. Kyungsoo and Youngjae were in the middle, and Minho took the back. The seven men walked slowly along the path and lowered the coffin onto the ground. The female cousins took the rope to lower it down, tears streaming down their faces as they did so. Throughout the week, they’d all expressed their sadness at not keeping in touch with Soojung. Not that she’d made it easy, she’d always been quite private, never quite good at making friends she’d always said. But she’d told Taemin she'd always been glad her husbands family had been so big, because she knew her children would always have someone to watch out them.

Taemin took his place next to the children, who cuddled into his side. When the time came to bury the coffin, they stepped forward with the flowers an aunt had handed out. Taemin held onto them as they leaned over, throwing the flowers in on top of the coffin. They both stood on the edge for a minute before turning away and clinging to Taemin, burying their faces in his trouser leg.

People began to disperse, most heading to the wake, Joonmyun going ahead to make sure everything was set up. Taemin saw Chanyeol with his sister, Yoora, who was talking to Kris. She held onto his arm as she talked, but Chanyeol was silent, staring at Kris as though committing his image to memory. Yoora left to talk to Sooyoung, and Chanyeol and Kris stood in silence, just looking at each other. They were facing one another, both with their hands clasped behind them, heads inclined, feet pointing towards the other. Their positions were perfect mirrors of one other and Taemin felt like an intruder just watching them, even from the distance that he was, and so looked away. The children were still standing were they had been, neither seeming ready to leave. The three of them stood there, and Taemin jumped when someone tapped on his shoulder.

“Tae,” Jongin said, his voice hoarse.

“Uncle Jongin,” Jimin said, looking up from Taemin’s leg. “you came to say goodbye. Uncle Tae said you weren't coming.”

Jongin crouched next to her, looking her in the eye and reaching out to stroke her face.

“Of course I came Jiminnie.”

Jimin smiled slightly. Jongin stood back up, looking Taemin in the eye.

“Can I speak to you Tae?”

Taemin nodded. He waved to his cousin. “Can you watch the kids for a minute? I won’t be long.”

She nodded, her face understanding. The two men walked off the path, away from were the kids were being taught a Chinese nursery rhyme.

They found themselves under a tree, slightly sheltered from the rain. It was bitterly cold, only a couple days before Christmas. In all the business of the past few weeks, Taemin had forgotten about that. Jongin had always liked Christmas.

To be perfectly honest, Jongin didn't look good. His eyes were bruised and bagged, his hair a mess and his roots showing, his clothes wrinkled.

He cleared his throat before speaking, his voice husky.

“I’m sorry. About Soojung.”

“I’m sorry too.”

“Chanyeol’s here, I hope that’s okay.”

“I don’t really care Jongin.” Taemin said, his voice unexpectedly sharp. Jongin visibly flinched, his eyes flashing with hurt.

“I just wanted to talk. Now that it looks like Kris and Joonmyun aren't separating, for now at least, we’re not going to see each other.”

Taemin paused. with everything that had happened, he hadn’t thought about that. His stomach dropped at the thought of not seeing Jongin, but he wasn't sure whether or not he could continue having to look at Jongin's fucking face every day. Taemin was still firm in the mindset that Jongin would be happier without him. It didn’t matter what Taemin wanted.

“I don’t know if I can bring myself to not see you for another two years. You know fine well what that did to me. I’d been better, cleaning myself up, sort of, but it still hurt Taemin. I’m sorry for what I said, but I meant it. I can’t…I don’t know if I can…keep doing whatever this is.”

“What is this? What do you mean ‘whatever this is’? Is that all I am to you Jongin? A whatever? Why are you doing this now anyway? At my cousins funeral? You’ve always been like this, always knowing the right moment to say something. I don’t have time for this. You talk about me being selfish, for leaving. But you should've known, what I was going to do. You must’ve seen the cuts on my arms, my legs, my hips, in high school, and in college. You should've known it wasn't normal to drink that much, to cry so much, for me to vomit before exams. But you didn't do anything did you?”

“I know, and I’m sorry,” Jongin was near tears, as he stood looking at Taemin, hands shaking, like they always did when he was emotional. “I didn't think, when we younger, you always seemed so… so far away. Above it all. But when you had your- accident, it fell apart. I’d had this image of you, to me, you were above things like sadness. And I’m sorry.”

“You don’t get to be sorry. I don’t have time Jongin. I stand by the idea that you’ll be happier without me in your life. I wasn't sure if i’d be able to deal with losing you, but I will if it will make you happy. And it will. Bye Jongin.”

Taemin turned, walking away back towards the grave.

“Taemin,” Jongin called out. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Taemin said, too quiet for Jongin to hear. Not that it would've mattered anyway.

He didn't look back till he’d almost reached the kids, glancing towards where Jongin had stood. He took one look at Jongin on his knees, his head in his hands and shoulders shaking. Taemin turned, and it took every bit of power he had not to run back and take Jongin in his arms and never let him go.

And if Taemin cried hysterically, collapsing to the ground outside where the wake was held, and was momentarily glad no one would ask questions at a funeral, Jongin never needed to know.

And if Jongin went straight to a bar and drank so much he passed out in the street, Taemin never needed to know.

 

\- - - - - - - - - - - -

_six months later_

 

Taemin was sitting at his desk, his shirt sleeves rolled up and tie loosened, the AC up full blast. It was pouring outside, thick summer rain that provided no relief from the heat that covered every inch of the city.

His office was mostly the same, save for the addition of a couple framed photographs on his desk. One of him with Jimin and Jihoon, when he’d taken them to the beach that spring. There was another of Jimin, taken when she’d started school, in her uniform with her hair expertly braided by Kris. He’d moved back in with Joonmyun. They slept in separate rooms, but they seemed to be getting along, and the kids were slowly getting better too.

There was another one on his desk, found when he was going through his things at his brother’s house. It was the day he’d graduated college. His parents hadn't made it to the ceremony, but his brother was there and countless cousins. He was pretty sure it was Sehun’s boyfriend who’d taken this one, Zitao was always taking pictures, half of them of himself. Taemin was smiling, in his graduation robes, standing in the quad. But Taemin was always more focused on who had his arm round him. Jongin was standing next to him, smiling in the way that made Taemin’s stomach drop to his feet. They were both smiling, Jongin not looking at the camera, but at Taemin. He looked at it every day, so he’d remember how Jongin looked when he was happy.

He was looking at it that night, and he was wondering if he ought to go get another coffee. It was nearly ten, but a lot of them had stayed late so the office was still busy. He’d not gone back to that coffee shop, but he’d stood outside before, considering going in but leaving before he could. Then the phone rang.

“Taemin,” Naeun said down the line, “I don’t know who it is, and I know you said no non-work phone calls, but she’s crying so you should probably talk to her.”

“Put her through then.”

The line clicked and hummed before connecting.

“Taemin, are you there?”

It was Jongin’s sister.

“Jungah? Is everything okay?”

“Mo, no it’s not. There’s been an accident, I don’t know… it’s Jongin, he was with Chanyeol, they were drunk and it was raining and dark, I don’t know, they were in the street and there was a car and-“

“Is he okay? Jongin, is he okay?” Taemin felt like he was falling, like he had just dropped down from the eighteenth floor where his office was, through the basement, onto the subway tracks, and run over.

“No, maybe, I don’t know, I'm at the hospital, he’s in surgery, both of them are, I’ve called Yoora, and I thought you’d want to know…”

"How long has he been in surgery?”

"I don’t know, maybe half an hour. I only just got here, the schools are all off so they’re all in japan and our parents are travelling, and I don’t know what to do Taemin.”

“I’m on my way, I’ll be there soon okay?” Taemin hung up, and headed down the hall. Naeun called out to him from the desk.

“taemin-ah! where are you going?”

Taemin paused, looking over at her. “It’s Jongin, he’s in hospital. I’ll not be in tomorrow, cancel my meetings would you?”

“Already done. Be safe Taemin.”

The ride to the hospital was agonisingly long, and so was the walk, and the woman who gave him directions, and the elevator. Taemin burst into the waiting room, out of breath and soaked to the bone. Jungah was lying splayed out on a sofa next to Chanyeol’s sister Yoora. He’d spoken to her at the wake, lovely girl. Jungah looked up when Taemin came in, standing up and pulling him into her arms.

“You’re soaked Minnie, did you swim here?”

Taemin couldn't bring himself to reply.

“What happened? How’s Jongin?”

“I don’t know, I'm sorry Tae. The doctors aren’t saying anything, we might be here a while.”

Taemin nodded, collapsing into a chair, suddenly exhausted. He took off his shirt, sitting in his vest, his hair dripping onto his neck. He pulled his mobile out, calling Joonmyun’s apartment.

“Hello, this is Jimin speaking, my uncle can’t answer the phone right now, can I take a message?”

“Jimin darling, is your uncle there?”

“Joonie’s away right now but Kris is here. Do you want to speak to him?”

“Yes please. And why are you up this late?”

“When uncle joon is away we don’t have a bedtime. Don’t tell him please.”

Taemin waited while Jimin yelled for Kris.

“Min, everything okay?”

“jongin’s been in an accident, I’m at the hospital, I don’t think I can pick Jimin up from ballet tomorrow.”

“Wait what?” Kris replied “What happened?”

“i’m not really sure, he was drunk, he got hit by a car I think, he’s in surgery, I'm with Jungah and Yoora, I don’t know what-“

“Yoora? As in Chanyeol's Yoora? Park Yoora? Chanyeol was with him?”

“Yeah, Yoora’s here, Chanyeol's in surgery I don’t know what happened, the doctor’s aren't sure.”

“I need to go. I’ll be there soon, I’ll need to bring the kids, should I drive, I don’t know if Joonmyun will be back tonight, should I-“

“Kris, do what you think is best.”

Taemin hung up and bent his head back. If he closed his eyes tight enough, he wouldn't have to think about Jongin being in surgery, Jongin being hurt. Why was he that drunk anyway, he should've payed attention, he’d said he wasn't getting drunk anymore, he should've been more careful, he should’ve-

Jungah was shaking his shoulder.

“Do you want a coffee?”

Taemin nodded. He was considering going to find a doctor to interrogate when Kris arrived. He’d evidently decided to bring the kids, Jihoon in his pyjamas shuffling along holding Jimin’s hand.

Yoora stood up when Kris came in, surprise etched on her face.

“I forget you’re so tall Yifan,” she said before wrapping him in a hug. “it’s been too long, you said you wouldn’t be a stranger.”

Kris didn’t say anything, just hugged her back. Jimin shuffled over to Taemin, both of them climbing into his lap.

“What’s happened uncle Tae? Krissie isn't saying anything. Who's sick?”

“No one’s sick darling. There’s been an accident, your uncle’s friend is in surgery, so’s Jongin.”

“Ninnie? Is he okay? Why haven't we seen him, does he not like us anymore?”

“Of course he likes you. He’s just been busy, working a lot. Try and get some rest, we might be here a while.”

Jimin nodded, her and Jihoon curling up like kittens and going to sleep.

Why hadn't Taemin seen him? He should've kept in touch, maybe this wouldn't have happened, maybe Taemin wouldn't be sitting here waiting to be told whether Jongin had died or not. Was this how Jongin had felt, that night he’d found Taemin? How he’d felt waiting to be told if Taemin was alive or not?

Taemin continued in this manner, having an existential crisis and drinking the watery coffee that Jungah had brought back. They all sat there, Kris next to Yoora in hushed conversation, Jungah sitting next to Taemin in silence. After about ten minutes she cleared her throat, not turning to look at Taemin, continuing to look ahead.

"They found my number on the emergency contact card Jongin keeps in his wallet. You're the one who made him carry it with him, so I suppose I should thank you. The hospital called, and they called me Sir when they I first picked up. They apologised after I spoke, they'd assumed the first number would be a man. I asked why, and they said it was because there wasn't much money in his wallet, but there were pictures of someone, a male someone. A someone who is you, Taemin. So they assumed the first number would be the most important person to him. But I'm not the person most important to Jongin, You are."

Jungah smiled as she talked and taemin tried to not look at her directly. There was something in the corner of her mouth as she spoke that made her look too much like her brother to prevent a lump rising in the Taemin's throat. "As much as he annoys me, he's still my little brother. And as his sister, I have to tell you, if you keep on breaking his heart like you do, I'll have to kill you, even if it makes him cry. Our Jongin has always been a bit of a romantic."

 

It was maybe one in the morning when a doctor came out.

“Park? Park Chanyeol? Is anyone here for Park Chanyeol?”

Yoora stood up and the doctor walked over to her. He said something to her and she sat down, her and Kris staring at him with pale faces. Taemin only caught snippets of the conversation but could tell enough from the expression on Kris’s face.

“Complications… did everything we could…sincerest apologies… sorry for your loss.”

Yoora nodded and the doctor left. She leant back, her face blank and expressionless. Kris stood up as though to go after the doctor but his legs gave out and he collapsed to the ground on his knees. His shoulders shook and he covered his face with his hands.

“No,” he repeated to himself, his words nearly silent, tears falling from his eyes and onto the floor. “no, no.”

Jimin had woken up and turned to Taemin.

“What’s happened to uncle Kris?”

“Your uncle’s just lost someone very important to him.”

Jimin nodded, before standing up and shuffling over to her uncle. She stood in front of him and wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Don’t worry uncle Kris. Sometimes you can’t see the people you love,” she said “but that doesn't mean they love you any less, and that doesn't mean they’re gone. As long as you love your friend, he’ll be with you.”

Kris looked up, his eyes blank. He didn't reply but pulled the small girl into his arms. She wrapped her arms round him and let her uncle cry into her shoulder, stroking his hair. Eventually Kris stopped shaking, but they stayed like that for a good half hour, Jimin holding her uncle, like she knew he would be okay, and that he would get through this. And she did know, Taemin supposed.

Taemin almost hoped a doctor wouldn't come out. No news was good news he guessed, or rather, hoped. But too soon, a doctor called out “Kim Jongin?”

Jungah stood up and she came over.

“Mr Kim is out of surgery but he is unconscious. He may remain so for the next few days. You can come see him if you want.”

Jungah looked at Taemin and he waved her away. He wasn't sure if he could see jongin just yet. He felt guilty at the waves of relief that came over him, looking over at Kris who was sat holding Jimin in his arms, staring blankly ahead while tears fell down his cheeks.

Should he go see Jongin? He wouldn't want to see Taemin anyway, not after what he’d said. But if he was unconscious, surely he wouldn't mind? Or notice, for that matter. He turned the idea over in his head when Jungah came back in.

“Go see him, if you want.”

Taemin nodded, passing Jihoon to her, who was still asleep. She sat down, wrapping her free arm around Yoora, who had been given forms to fill out but couldn't stop her hands from shaking.

Taemin went down the hall and into the intensive care unit. Jongin was in the third bed down on the right side. He was hooked up to dozens of various tubes, and a dozen different machines, a breathing tube in his nose, his arm in a cast, and a large stitched cut running from his hairline and down his cheek. His head was bandaged, and his hair was back to its natural black. Taemin didn't want to think about what was under his gown, the damage to his insides. Jongin was asleep, his face relaxed, but covered in bruises. Taemin sat down in the chair next to the bed. He took one of Jongin’s hands in his own. It was like ice.

Taemin just sat there, staring at Jongin. He stayed like that for an age, various nurses coming in and out. Jungah sat with him for a while, leaving to take Yoora home. Joonmyun came and brought Taemin a change of clothes, sitting with Jongin while Taemin went to go eat. He found himself feeling too sick to keep anything down, and felt nauseous till he was back next to Jongin.

After the third day, the doctors told him he would probably regain consciousness soon. Taemin nodded, but couldn't help feeling scared, knowing this would probably be the last time he would get to see Jongin. He sat with him the whole day, until late that night Jongin moved his head.

His eyes opened slightly, his mouth attempting to move but finding that it couldn’t. Jongin looked at Taemin, his eyes fuzzy, before they closed again. Taemin took one last look at Jongin, running his thumb over his hand, and committing his face to memory. Taemin reached out and stroked Jongin’s cheek, leaning over and kissing his forehead. He took a last look, before standing up, and leaving.

 

Jongin was aware of darkness. The sounds of machines, and darkness. His eyes felt heavy, his mouth sealed shut. and he was in pain. He lifted his eyes, attempting to open them. The light was blinding. The only thing he saw was a person. His brain moved to place the face. Taemin. but that wasn't possible was it? Taemin was gone.

But he was here. His hair was shorter, his face was thinner, and more tired, but it was Taemin. He was holding Jongin’s hand, and Jongin heard him inhale as he opened his eyes. He was so beautiful. But he was gone. It’s only a dream, Jongin thought to himself. It’s only a dream. So he closed his eyes, and tried to dream some more.

 

\- - - - - - - - - - - -

_6 years ago_

 

It was dark as Taemin walked through the hospital. The silence was palpable, and the flower bouquet he was holding was sickly sweet. jongin had told him his sister liked flowers, so he’d gotten the biggest bunch the gift shop sold. She’d been in hospital for two weeks now, the doctors wanted to keep an eye on her and the baby. There had been a lot of complications, during and after the birth and Taemin didn't understand what was going on but Jongin was sad and scared so that made taemin sad and scared. So he was bringing flowers.

 

Her husband was at home, he’d flown out as soon as he could and hadn't slept for three days. He said he wanted to watch his baby, make sure she was okay.

 

It was a girl, a tiny little thing with pink fingers and big round eyes. She barely had fingernails, being almost two months early but she already had hair, a mop of soft dark fuzz that tickled Taemin’s nose when he held her. She’d wrapped her hands round Jongin’s finger when he held her. Taemin had taken a photo, covering his face with the camera so Jongin didn't see the hideous grin on his face.

 

Taemin checked in Jongin’s sister room but he wasn't there. He left the flowers on the nightstand, careful not to wake her. He shuffled down the corridor to the nursery. Jongin was standing on the other side of the glass, looking through at his niece as though if he didn't she’d disappear.

 

Taemin hugged him from behind, wrapping his arms round his waist and burying his nose in his neck, pressing his lips to the exposed piece of skin. Jongin’s muscles were tense but he visibly relaxed at Taemin’s touch. He turned around and wrapped his arms round Taemin's waist, bending down to lean his forehead on Taemin’s shoulder.

 

“When did you last sleep Jongin?”

 

“I don’t know,” Jongin admitted sheepishly “I don’t want to leave her.”

 

“It’s okay, she’s not going anywhere,” Taemin said, rubbing Jongin’s back. “you should rest, I’ll watch her.”

 

Jongin hummed, looking up from Taemin’s shoulder. He pressed their foreheads together, smiling and going cross eyed.

 

“What would I do without you Tae?”

 

“Die,” Taemin said flatly, earning a puff of laughter from Jongin.

 

Taemin stood and watched through the glass, Jongin next to him and holding him round the waist, his head tucked into the crook of Taemin’s neck.

 

They stood like that, watching over the little girl as she slept.

 

And if Taemin embraced the feel of Jongin so close to him, the feeling that Jongin wanted him, needed him, Jongin never needed to know.

 

And if Jongin closed his eyes and absently thought about what kind of dad Taemin would be, not being able to stop thoughts of Taemin’s eyes and how small Rahee had looked in his arms and how Jongin felt like his heart was coming out of his throat, Taemin never needed to know.

\- - - - - - - - - - - -

 

Joonmyun called Taemin at work a week later.

“Chanyeol’s funerals tomorrow. I'm at a conference in Harbin, and Kris is wanting to go. Do you think you could come, just to watch the kids? They’re insisting they go, to ‘look after uncle Kris’.”

“Yeah. Yeah of course, that’s fine.”

“Oh, and Yoora called, she wants you to be one of the pallbearers, if that’s no trouble to you.”

“Me? Uh, sure, if that’s what she wants”

Joon thanked him and hung up. Taemin didn't get any work done, staring at the ceiling, not really thinking about anything.

 

The kids were already dressed by the time by the time Taemin got there. Aside from shoelaces, they’d done it all themselves. Jihoon was already so much taller, so much older.

“Uncle Kris isn't up yet. We went in but he was still asleep.”

Taemin set them up in front of the TV with bowls of cereal, before venturing into Kris’s room. The blinds were drawn, clothes thrown around the floor. There was a collection of empty coffee cups and untouched meals next to his bed. There appeared to be something under a mountain of blankets that may have been Kris, but it could easily have been a life form that had grown like moss in the dark.

“Kris? C’mon, you need to get up.”

There was a groan from the mass, and a shuffle. Kris poked his head out, blinking at the light from the open door. His eyes were bloodshot, his cheekbones prominent and lips white and cracked.

“Don’ wanna.”

“You have to, come on,” Taemin manoeuvred himself around the floor and pulled the covers off. Kris swung his legs round the side of the bed, rubbing his eyes and swaying slightly as he stood up. Taemin helped him walk into the bathroom, turning on the shower for him. Kris’s hands shook as he brushed his teeth, tilting back and forth like he was drunk. From the smell of whiskey on him, he probably was. Taemin left Kris to shower as he tried to find some clean clothes that were slightly less creased than those on the floor. By the time he’d found some, Kris was standing in the doorway staring blankly at his feet. He looked like he had meant to say something but had forgotten halfway through. The water from his hair dripped to the carpet and he was shivering slightly, only the towel around his waist keeping him warm.

Taemin helped him get dressed, doing his tie as Kris stood frozen. Taemin towel dried his hair and tried to comb it into something presentable. His stubble was dark but Taemin didn't trust him to shave in his state. Je walked him into the kitchen, making him drink two cups of coffee.

“Can’t have you falling asleep,” Taemin said, attempting to lighten the mood.

Kris tried to smile but it looked more like he was in pain. Taemin cleared his throat to say something, anything, when the kids came running in.

“Uncle Kris!” Jimin cried, launching herself onto his lap. Kris brightened slightly, holding her on his knee as Jihoon jumped up and down to be lifted up too.

“Look at you, all dressed yourselves.”

“I did it all and Jihoon too, 'cept for the shoes.”

“Well done sweetheart, you're getting so grown up.”

Jimin beamed, turning to Taemin to smile. Her front tooth was wobbly and Taemin was again jilted into the realisation they were growing up.

“We better get going.”

Kris sighed, standing up but not letting go of Jimin’s hand. Jihoon whined until Taemin picked him up and carried him down to where he’d parked. Taemin drove them, again not trusting Kris to do so without crashing them into a wall. Kris’s hands shook as he fastened his seatbelt, reaching into his jacket to drink from a flask he’d snuck past them. Taemin didn't say anything, knowing he would be doing the exact same in Kris’s situation.

It was cloudy and humid when they got there. Chanyeol had stopped going to mass halfway through college but his parents had managed to convince whoever was in charge to let them use the church. There was already people outside, Naeun had told him that SM had taken a day off so just about everybody was there. Taemin handed the kids off to the group of women that had come over to coo and pinch their cheeks, standing next to Kris, who leant heavily on him and closed his eyes.

Too soon the funeral cars arrived. Chanyeol’s parents and Yoora got out the first one, followed by some of Chanyeol’s cousins. The third car followed, and Jongin’s sister got out first. She paused and sighed, before turning and helping Jongin out. He was shaky, leaning heavily on his sister. His face was still stitched, his wrist was bandaged, and he was limping heavily. A black eye had bloomed over the course of the week and he looked exhausted, probably having just come from the hospital.

Jongin followed after his sister into the church, looking around at the crowd that had parted to let them through. His eyes paused on Taemin and he seemed to stop breathing for a moment, before turning around and looking dead ahead as he walked in. The hearse arrived next and Taemin separated himself from the crowd, his hand on Kris’s arm as they walked.

Taemin was in the middle, Kris behind him. The guy who looked like a cat was in front of him, and one of the receptionists. Chanyeol’s cousin took the back, and someone who looked like the fashionable guy that Jongin was with the night he’d seen him in the street. Taemin made a note to ask Kris later, particularly when he saw the shorter guy next to him, squeezing his shoulder. There were two other guys at the front who Taemin recognised from the office but Taemin was too confused to think about who all these people were so concentrated on walking in a straight line. They’d needed eight pallbearers, given that the coffin was so long, and Chanyeol had been so tall. Taemin could practically feel the despair coming off Kris as he walked, and Taemin tried not to imagine what it would've been like if he was carrying Jongin in the coffin.

They set it down, Taemin shuffling into a pew to sit with the kids. Kris sat near the front, Yoora had insisted. The service was long, and the kids leant into Taemin as it went on. Taemin focused on the flower framed photo at the front. It was old but Chanyeol had looked the same since he’d turned eighteen. It was his high school graduation, his hair longer underneath his cap. He was grinning, smiling more than Taemin thought someone possibly could. There was a hand on his shoulder which Taemin focused on, recognising the ring on the little finger as Kris’s. He’d always thought Joon had given it to him, but this was taken at least three months before they’d met. It hurt to look at so Taemin dropped his eyes to the floor and convinced himself he wasn't crying.

When the service was over, Taemin pushed out of the pew, Jimin squeezing his arm as he left. He took his position by the coffin, shuffling out as the final hymn played. Taemin met Jongin’s eyes as he walked past, his expression unreadable. Taemin remembered when he could tell what jongin was thinking from the way his eyebrows were turned and had to look away to stop himself stumbling.

The burial carried on in a similar fashion, the coffin lowered into the ground and flowers thrown in. Kris stepped forward to throw in a handful of dirt, looking down into the hole. He teetered on the edge for a moment and Taemin stepped forward and pulled him back. He didn’t doubt that Kris would let himself fall in with Chanyeol and be buried alongside him but there were children present, and Joon would be annoyed that Kris had been so careless.

Jongin hobbled forward, supported by his sister, both throwing in flowers, Jongin furiously wiping his eyes as he walked back. It was over all too quickly as people filtered out to go to the wake. Taemin sent the kids along ahead of them with some of the various women who seemed intent on adopting them. Kris was on his knees as the grave was filled up and was talking to himself in something that was definitely not Korean. Taemin stood behind him, holding up an umbrella. It had started to rain.

"It was my fault,” Kris said hoarsely, not checking so see if Taemin was listening. “it was my fault, I met Joon and I tried to forget, to forget about him and his fucking smile and his dumb voice and how he always made me laugh and then he got sad and drunk and then he got hit by a car and he's dead.”

Taemin didn't know what to say, just squeezed Kris’s shoulder and let him cry. He was talking mostly to himself, a stream of words that fell into the ground like the rain.

“And he was so bright and happy, and he was my other half, I was with Joon, but Chanyeol was always the one- the one who i would come back to. I came here and I didn't speak Korean but Chanyeol spoke enough for the both of us and he’d punch anyone who laughed at me. He was the only one who said my name right cause he used to stay up at night practicing, and he was the only one to call me out on my shit and he was the only one who made me smile. And in high school, with Jongin’s sister, we used to get drunk and laugh so much we’d be sick and Jongin was so young, and all he ever talked about was you, and we would laugh and Chanyeol said you’d be together by graduation and I said college but that was ten years ago and you’re so fucking stupid Taemin.”

Kris had turned to look at Taemin halfway through. He stood up and faced him, looking him dead in the eye, shoulders heaving and eyes blazing. He was talking like he hadn't spoken in years, and in a way, Taemin supposed, he hadn’t.

“I gave up on Chanyeol, thought he’d be happier with me out of the picture, happier with me not burdening him, and I met Joonmyun and we got married a year later because Joon was easy and kind. At least he used to be. It's my fault though, for marrying him when I knew it wasn't...that i wasn't.... and I left Chanyeol, because he’d be happier without me. But he wasn't, and he drank, and it's my fault. So I’m begging you Taemin, with everything I have left in me, you don’t get to decide what makes people happy, they do. So stop being so fucking stupid and go back to him before one of you ends up dead.”

Kris was breathing heavily. He turned and walked away from Taemin, jogging slightly to catch up with the cars. Taemin stood there for a long time, before turning and walking back to his life.

 

By the time Taemin got there, Jongin was standing outside with his sister.

“Taemin! I’ve not seen you in so long, how have you been?”

“As good as I can be noona. Are you waiting for a cab?”

“Waiting being the operative word, my husband has the car, he had to take Rahee to her violin lesson. I’m dropping Jongin back at the hospital and signing him out, dropping him off and then coming back. I’m going home with Yoora to give her a hand.”

“I have my car, I can run Jongin back if that’s easier for you,” Yaemin wasn't quite sure why he’d said that but she smiled at his offer.

“That would be so good of you Taeminnie, thank you. I’ll come by your apartment tomorrow, okay Ninnie?”

Jongin only nodded, kissing his sister on the cheek before turning to Taemin. Neither said anything as Taemin walked Jongin to his car, helping him in. Taemin ignored how thin Tongin felt in his arms and just drove.

The ride was silent, save for the hum of the radio. Traffic was heavy in the rain and it took almost two hours to get back in to the city. It was almost dark by the time taemin got there. He parked the car and helped Jongin walk to the door.

“Do you want me to walk in with you?” Taemin finally said as they stood outside.

“I don’t really care Tae,” Jongin said, exhausted.

“That’s not an answer Jongin,” Taemin said, not unkindly.

Jongin just sighed so Taemin took that as a yes as he walked in with him. The lift was as full as always, so Taemin found himself holding Jongin up, his arm awkwardly wrapped around him. Just in case he was pushed or got dizzy or something.

The nurse smiled as she handed Taemin the check out forms. his stuff was already packed, his sister picking it up the next day. The forms were unnecessarily extensive so they sat down in an empty waiting area to fill them in. Taemin paused at the box where he was supposed to write his relationship with the patient. He left it blank.

“Why was there so many forms?” Taemin grumbled, mostly to himself, as they walked out of the hospital.

“It takes a lot to check someone out when they’ve been in the ICU for over a week. I had to get approval from three doctors.”

“You were in intensive for a week?” Taemin asked. “I thought they’d let you out when you woke up.”

“How'd you know I was in there in the first place?” Jongin said, his voice accusatory.

Taemin smiled awkwardly, looking away from Jongin, running his fingers through his hair and shifting slightly.

“Your sister called the office the day of the accident. I was still there, I’ve been working late a lot. I came as soon as I heard, and I waited for you while you were in surgery. I was with Kris and the kids when he found out about Chanyeol. You were in there for so long, I almost hoped a doctor wouldn't come out, in case they told us something had happened. I stayed with you the whole time you were unconscious, I left when you were starting to wake up.”

“I thought that was a dream,” Jongin said, staring at the ground, “or an angel. I thought I died I was in so much pain. I almost wished I had. I’m so drugged up I don’t even know if I’m alive right now. It should've been me.”

“Don’t say that,” Taemin said his voice sharp. “don’t ever say that. I felt like I was being eaten from the inside, when I was waiting to be told if you were still alive. Don’t ever say that.”

“Do you know how it feels? Do you know how I felt now? I found you, practically dead, and I had to wait to be told if you were or not, alone. And the worst part was that I knew you had wanted to die. You didn't want to be helped. Do you know how it feels now? I was sitting, waiting to be told if the person I love most-“

“Don’t say that," Taemin said, cutting him off. “that you love me.”

“Why not?” Jongin said, half angry, half sad. “Why can’t I say that I love you? How many times do I say to you, you don’t decide my feelings.”

“I know. I know Jongin. I’m sorry. I don’t get to decide how you feel. But please, think about this, do you really want to be stuck with me? Think of yourself, please Jongin.”

“I know this will hurt. It kills me, knowing I love you and you don't love me but I’m not going to pretend-“

“Jongin, who ever said I didn't love you?”

“You. When you left. You might as well have screamed it in my face that you didn't care about me.”

“Jongin,” Taemin said, his voice shaking. “I left because I loved you. I loved you so much it hurt, and I didn't want you to have to burden yourself with someone who you didn't want to have around. I loved you, I loved you so much, you’ll never know how much it hurts.”

“Shut up. Stop speaking Taemin, I’ve loved you since the day I saw you, I thought you were so beautiful I walked into a pillar and split my lip open. And I used to hear you laugh, and see you everyday, and it killed me a little bit not to be with you. And then I was drunk, and I talked to you and you actually wanted to spend time with me and I was the luckiest person in the world. And we existed in our little bubble until I messed up and then everything hurt all the time. And then you left.”

“You - you love me?”

“Of course I love you. How else do you think I managed to put up with you for so long?”

Taemin laughed but his voice was thick as he realised he was crying a little bit. They must have made an odd site, two teary men in funeral suits standing outside a hospital, one looking like he’d been in a fist fight with a bus and the other like he’d not slept since 1983.

“So what do we do now?” Taemin asked, slightly more apprehensive than he had been a minute ago.

“You’re an idiot.”

Taemin was still frozen so Jongin wrapped his arm around Taemin’s neck, the other coming around his back to pull him closer. He buried his face in Taemin’s neck, crying more than he had in a long time.

“So you love me?” Taemin asked, smiling into Jongin’s shoulder, “Me? Taemin? Only me?”

“Of course it’s you, it’s always been you, you dick.”

“Say that again would you?” Taemin teased, his face starting to hurt from smiling.

 

They'd gone to their coffee shop. They were freezing, and it was where it had all started again hadn't it? They'd sat and they'd laughed. They were standing outside the cafe now, Jongin reaching into his pocket for a cigarette. He looked at the pack for a moment, before putting it back in his pocket.

"Missed you," is all Taemin says, once they were standing outside Taemin's apartment building amidst the lights of the city and the noise of the cars. The same building where Taemin was loaded into an ambulance, and where Jongin waited for Taemin when he knew he wasn't coming. Jongin nods in agreement, reaching out and brushing a piece of Taemin's fringe away from his eye.

It's in that moment that Taemin realises he wants to kiss Jongin, had always been wanting to kiss Jongin.

So taemin moves his hand to Jongin's cheek, reassured in his decision when Jongin turns and presses a soft kiss to his palm.

Taemin leans in, thumb stroking over Jongin's cheekbone, lips inches away. Jongin's hand slides up to rest on his waist, and it feels right, like it's meant to be there, like this.

"Is this okay?" Taemin whispers, and Jongin smiles and nods, and Taemin's heart thuds.

"Just kiss me, would you?" Jongin jokes, and Taemin only lets a smirk pass his lips for a second before he presses his mouth to Jongin's.

And Taemin's done it, he's gotten the boy he loves to kiss him, and he's not fucked it up, and they're both sober, and they're both alive, they're both happy.

All the other times Taemin has ever thought a kiss held love within it, he was dead wrong, because this is it. All sweet and gentle and hands carefully touching because their hearts have been two broken halves of a whole until this very moment.

"I'm still mad at you," Jongin mutters against Taemin's lips, body moving in to press impossibly closer to him.

Taemin smiles into the kiss, palms still pressed to either side of Jongin's face, caressing the skin gently. "I love you too."

 

\- - - - - - - - - - - -

_one year later_

 

They're laying in bed, facing each other, limbs tangled together in the middle of the night. It's still mostly dark outside, but it never gets dark in this city. The lack of light makes Jongin's eyes look less brown and more impossibly black. They mesmerise Taemin, and he finds himself admiring the colour every time they wake up together at random hours like this.

Their dogs squirm a little down from their spot at the foot of the bed, causing those black eyes to flicker down to take in the scene. Normally, Taemin would follow his gaze, share a laugh over Jjangah's behaviour, but Taemin is focused on watching Jongin's eyes.

"Have I ever told you I love you?" Taemin says, voice thick with sleep. The noise brings Jongin's eyes back to his, and they shine as he chuckles at Taemin's sudden words.

"Every day," Jongin replies, smiling, hand reaching up and stroking Taemin's cheek.

Taemin laughs, moving closer to his boyfriend - _his boyfriend_ , and pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. "Well, I do. I do love you."

The words still make him nervous, even after all this time, but it's okay when Jongin positively glows and says, "I love you too, Tae."

**Author's Note:**

> tysm for reading, i hope this wasn't total shit. feedback is appreciated!!


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